Deja Vu
by Kazuya-sama
Summary: Darkness engulfed everything. There was nothing but the deafening silence of the black. That is, until he woke up in the clutches of a mysterious scientific organisation. Slowly, life is draining back into his body, mind and soul...filling the void.
1. Deja vu

A/N: I decided to touch up the first chapter of this one for re-release. I won't be writing much more these days other than touching up old crap, since I am very busy, not interested, and have a broken bone in my right pinkie finger...

You'll see more of me with my art on my website, and on my DA art account, http:miraikazuya.deviantart.com.

Déjà vu

Blackness; nothingness; eternal emptiness; the abyss...

There was nothing; nothing but the impending blackness, the silence. The void of unknown.

The darkness was murderous, the silence deafening. The nothingness was filled with so much; it would explode at any second. It was maddening – what lay beyond it? What was it? Where was it? Why was the darkness, the silence, the void – the nothingness – here?

Just as it rose to the point beyond being bearable, just as the intoxicating lack of substance, volume – _anything_ – grew to the point of burning curiosity and its very existence – the silence was shattered like the fragile, intricate glass of a church window.

"…it seems to have worked…"

"…victory for the corporation…"

"…should be fully functional in a few…"

Like a thick, damp morning mist, voices drifted in through the edges of consciousness, defining the boundaries of the void…and gradually demolishing them. They grew louder, louder, louder still; they were soon deafening – though, oddly, not painful.

Then everything became clear.

The lights above were astonishingly bright, glaring down through his eyelids furiously. He opened his eyes slowly, and ended up having to close them again hastily when they were met with nothing but searing white. Slowly, surely, as the voices cooed and soothed him, convincing him it was alright, he was safe, there was nothing to worry about, he opened his eyes again, cautious of the blinding white.

As he stared up, squinting through the obnoxious brightness, he saw people standing over him, staring at him from every direction above him, encompassing him. They all seemed interested at the very least, intrigued by his every movement. It was them he noticed. With every movement he made – clenching and unclenching a fist, blinking, moving his head about – there was no sensation.

He couldn't feel a thing at all.

After a moment he sat up effortlessly, letting the images of his surroundings seep in as the dark imprints from the lights slowly faded from his vision. This place was familiar. He was sitting on an operating bench, surrounded by men and women in white trench-coats, in a large room littered with unnecessarily large amounts of scientific apparatus. He took a deep breath to discover what it smelled like – only to find that, along with his sensation, his sense of smell apparently wasn't working either. He frowned. What was wrong with him?

A rather excited scientist rudely entered his field of vision, babbling in an elevated pitch. "Mr Mishima, welcome back! We're so relieved to see you've regained consciousness! We didn't think we'd be able to bring you out of it this time…but you're here, and everything is working perfectly!"

He scowled more. "No it's not, I can't feel or smell a thing! It's like I'm half-dead."

Everyone exchanged glances, and suddenly, he felt incredibly nervous. He'd already observed some of himself from the corner of his eye; he'd seen his lower legs quickly – blue slacks, black shoes – and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He _felt_ alright, though his literal sense of touch seemed not to work. Again, he closed and flexed a fist, only this time, he looked down at it.

His eyes widened.

His hands were metal. Solid, shiny, cold metal. Every digit had been carefully constructed to be a perfect, metallic representation of his hands. No wonder he couldn't feel a thing.

He looked down over his arms, and pressed a hand to his chest. Metal. Metal, metal, metal. The reflection of his face against a nearby window revealed some level of relief – he looked the same as he remembered before; mildly aged face, slightly receded hairline, dark widow's peak, the segmented scar across his cheeks. But below his neck, his body was completely mechanised. He could see, beneath the blue pinstriped t-shirt, that every detail was perfect; but this wasn't his body. This wasn't his body.

Confused, concerned, on the verge of panic, he whipped his attention back to the man that first addressed him. He needed answers. Now.


	2. Forsaken

A/N: Thanks for your reviews! As a result…here's a 3,600 word-long chapter.

Note: Gruesome, gory, full of hatred.

***

Throughout the excited babbles of the growing crowd of scientists, doctors and technicians around him, he just sat there, numb to the world, unmoving except for the odd blink, the odd breath of air. His mind was racing – he couldn't remember what happened to him, but it seemed he was alive. He was alive. But why?

His crowd of attendants had stayed reasonably hushed as what seemed to be the leader of the mob of white-coated men and women told the long tale euphorically. Apparently he'd been dead. He'd been dead for quite a while. He had been too dead to save. So his 'real' body had been placed into a cryogenic stasis unit whilst the G-Corporation, as he discovered, had used his mind as an experimental tool. 

The body, wounded at this point beyond recovery, was now, after at least half a year of intense research, study and experimentation, within a healing unit deep within the labs of the corporation. In the meantime, Kazuya's consciousness was within the confines of an android body. 

It had turned out that Kazuya had always had a highly unusual physiology which had been called upon for the first time when he was thrust off a cliff at the bright young age of five. He had an unnatural ability to heal wounds, save himself from dying of normally fatal injury, and, most importantly, keep his mind from degenerating in the instance of death. Normally, without oxygen, the human brain would die within mere minutes, with no hope of being saved – electrical pathways fail, and as a result, everything gathered over a lifetime dissolves; memories, abilities, speech, movement, life – they all drain away into nothingness when the brain is starved of oxygen. But his unique physiology, aggravated by the presence of a spiritual being known as Devil, had once again saved his mind from degeneration over the hours he'd spent dead.

Though his brain was perfectly intact, saved from loss of all humanity, his body was apparently beyond repair. Drastic blood loss, broken bones, wounds too great to heal – the greatest atrocity being a hole blown right through the centre of his chest – had resulted in the G-Corporation turning, temporarily one would hope, to biomechanics. They had created schematics that were well ahead of any scientific sector in the world, and in the process, had created for Kazuya a body that resembled his physique, flexibility, strength, power, even his voice and ability to grow stronger – perfectly. 

All of this information had been fired in his direction over the last half an hour. He heard every word perfectly, understood all their technobabble, but he felt as empty as he literally was in human terms. With their limited funding, the G-Corporation was unable to either afford or create the necessary materials to create realistic skin in great quantities. As a result, he'd been left with only his face and neck looking as they did before his death – the rest of him was plated intricately with some form of metal alloy. Whilst it resembled him exactly, he wasn't used to being a shiny grey. He didn't like it one bit.

His dark eyes caught those of the head of the department once again. He'd been babbling eagerly the whole time, but he slowed down as the deep ebony orbs burned into his; for some reason, he felt guilty for resurrecting this life once again. The silent pain was evident in the artificial eyes of their latest breakthrough.

"You don't like it, do you Mr Mishima?"

Kazuya's voice was a calm monotone, his expression unchanging. "Why did you do it?"

For a few seconds, no one answered. It was a middle-aged woman who stepped forward eventually. "With the greatest respect possible…it was an opportunity not to be equalled. No chance like this has ever presented itself to us such as this, ever."

His eyes burned into hers. "Opportunity for what?"

She smiled. "Biomechanics, of course. We've created the world's most advanced, most realistic automatons; but as of yet, we haven't created a computer-driven mind to match our creations. With your unique physiology, we were able to harness one of the most formidable, one of the most brilliant minds in existence before it could go to waste. This is a scientific breakthrough that will go down in…"

He didn't let her finish. With a soft sigh, he slipped off the bench he was sitting on, and walked out. To where, he didn't know, but anywhere was better than this. No one stopped him, they simply let him go.

***  
  
This place was too familiar for his liking. Leaning completely against the cold window pane before him, he watched as Tokyo went about its evening business below, the red and white lights of the cars so many storeys below streaming slowly up and down the main streets of the CBD. He knew the window was cold; it was winter, and it was late at night. But as he'd found, he couldn't feel it. He couldn't even sense it. His world was a detached mess, since he could only see and hear. Indeed, his sight was even sharper than it had been in life, and he'd come to notice that in his age his vision had failed, but now it was better than it had ever been. His hearing was the same. He could not only hear footsteps down the hall, he could hear every breath of whoever it might be coming in the silence of the hall. It was eerie. 

He couldn't tell how long he'd been staring down at the streets below. Hours, maybe. He was glad no one had interrupted him, just let him think things over for himself. He'd always been a solitary man. Now was the one time out of them all that he wanted to be alone in the world. His mind was a cacophony of emotions, memories, feelings, ideas…he couldn't decipher one before he was interrupted by a thousand more. His brain, since it had been dragged from a corpse and into a highly advanced computer, was still jumbled, disoriented, and lacking cohesion. Most of his memories were currently fragmented and thrown about inside his head like a broken jigsaw, and it seemed only being alone to think would help him put his zillion-piece puzzle back together.

He knew who he was, he knew where he was; he didn't know when it was, or why it was at all. He should have been left dead. He didn't even know why he wasn't alive in the first place. It was a mystery that was burning his metallic flesh from the outside in. Whoever said curiosity killed the cat was a fucking genius.

Footsteps eventually began echoing through the hall. Kazuya still stood in silence, waiting for them to disappear. Like the other people over the last few hours, he knew whoever it was would just head down another corridor and leave him alone. Unfortunately, it seemed they weren't about to leave. Though they wore the same shoes as everyone else around this place, he could tell by the lighter, quicker footsteps and softer breathing that the person approaching him was a woman. He didn't look toward her, he merely continued to watch his hometown in its hustle and bustle below him, feigning innocence.

She didn't even walk right past him. When she reached him, she stopped, and placed a soft hand on his cool shoulder. He still didn't look at her.

"Are you alright?" She'd been the first person to show genuine concern, and so far, no interest in him being a G-Corporation guinea pig – again. 

He didn't move. "No."

She sighed softly, and petted one of his much larger hands with her own dainty fingers. He frowned. "It must be pretty terrible, huh?"

Again, he remained numb and emotionless, as a machine should. It was very quickly depressing him as more and more limitations entered his mind. "You have no i-fucking-dea."

She shook her head, and looked down upon the city he'd been so intently watching for at least three hours. "To suddenly be robbed of what all humans take for granted, and rely on for their own sanity…you're right, I have no idea what it would be like." She paused to think. She was young, attractive, and full of energy – but she had a humane side that the others in her department seemed to lack. She felt for him, unlike anyone else, who were only interested in the monetary and scientific gain to the corporation. "Things will get better slowly. We're trying to find ways to restore what rightly belongs to you…"

"My body?" His calm, deep voice interrupted her before she could finish. 

She bit her lip. That's all he really wanted, wasn't it? Normally most people would jump at the opportunity to be stronger, faster and all-out better than they were, and to take on any physical appearance they wished. Then again, martial artists often have much more respect for who and what they are physically. A lifetime of training and fighting had been thrown into a stasis chamber, dead, and left to rot. "No…not yet…"

A shaky sigh escaped his lips, and he rested against the window even more heavily than before. His obsidian eyes drifted shut, and his forehead rested against the large, thick, cold window. Why had everything gone so wrong so suddenly?

For a few minutes she stood in silence, not moving from his side. Her small hand still rested over his metallic knuckles; she could only wish he could feel them there. She knew that if he had tear glands, he may have a drop or two of salty sadness trailing down his cheeks; perhaps it was of benefit to his pride that he was unable to cry.

"All this time…I thought that I wouldn't be stuck in this…this…computer…for the rest of my life…" His voice was so low, so soft, that she could barely hear it, even in the silence of the empty hall. Subconsciously, she squeezed his slender fingers between hers…they didn't return the gesture. "No one's even told me why I'm dead…"

She squeezed his hand tighter, and tugged him away from the window. Once again numb from the outburst of emotion a moment ago, he let her drag him away, feeling no energy nor desire to resist. "Let me show you, Kazuya."

She bit her lip, and pulled him lightly until he followed. "I'm not supposed to do this…but you have the right to know." That didn't help him too much; he knew this was going to be bad. Yet he followed her into the jagged jaws of the truth, feeling the sense of reality dragging at his metallic skin, digging its claws in, forcing him to accept his fate as nothing more than a science experiment…once again.

The long and convoluted route through the building, deeper and deeper toward the core, brought with it lights, shiny walls, sterile environments, and strange smells he couldn't smell – he could only tell by the way people reacted to entering and exiting the area. So now, he'd lost two senses. It went without saying that he couldn't taste either. It was too obvious to even hope for.

Eventually, after passing secured areas, narrow corridors, glass doors and many a trench-coat-clad employee of the infamous G-Corporation, they entered a dimly lit room, illuminated only by black-looking fluorescent bulbs lining the centre of the roof. The light cast itself down upon the shiny metal floor and many rounded glass chambers spread across the interior walls of the place. The masses of cables, tubes, glass and computer consoles, coupled of course with flashing lights of all colours, didn't seem to bother him…he was more interested in knowing the truth. Besides, technology didn't alarm or concern him; he was, no doubt, the most advanced piece of technology in the entire building.

The young woman led him toward one of the chambers of shaped glass, and stood beside it. He instinctively knew that within the glass, covered by a film of condensation, lay his answers. He also knew, by the sort of technology, that it was a holding tank for a stasis unit, designed for healing. This was where his body lay.

With a deep breath let in and out, Kazuya stepped forward hesitantly, almost scared of what lay before him. He knew it wouldn't be pretty. After a moment's hesitation, he raised a hand, and wiped the frost and condensation from the glass as best he could. What lay within was barely illuminated by the dim lighting within the room, and it took him a moment to focus.

When he did, he wished he hadn't.

The ripped and torn being within was barely recognisable, even to him. The face, for a start, was more than the word 'mess' could begin to describe. The closed eyes were about all that were left intact; the cheeks were ripped and torn, and in some places, the white teeth beneath them shone out a bright blue against the lighting. Some of the hair on the head had been torn off, leaving a bald patch on the side of the head. Pieces of the cartilage on one ear had been sliced, and left ragged wounds, with pieces of skin left dangling by threads in the viscous liquid within the tank. Jawbone also showed through the damaged flesh and glowed against the blue light.

Kazuya's eyes trailed down the naked body. Dark purple wounds showed up around the neck – so obviously the bruises left by a large, powerful hand – and below, a massive, gaping wound in the chest. In fact, he could see right through it. The thought left him feeling faint, let alone the reality of the image itself. On one arm, bones of the lower half stuck out grotesquely through the flesh, and on the other, enough flesh had been torn away to expose the very same bones, which had been left somewhat intact. 

Lower down, the immense lacerations Kazuya knew as tears from rocks and other natural objects became visible. The longest, deepest one traced from beside the gaping hole in the chest, to the opposite side, to the top of the thigh. Any closer to the left, and it would make any man cringe in sympathetic agony. The legs, like the arms, were ripped to the bone, either with flesh missing, or bones jutting out through the muscle of the dead body. Outstandingly enough, not one limb or digit was missing, but the injuries were clearly enough to kill any creature beyond repair. Even in the dim light, the stark white corpse was laden with so many dark wounds…and he could only see what was on the surface!

Kazuya stepped back, unable to speak. The state of the mangled body was more than he could take – since it was his body!

He finally found his voice. "I am so glad I can't throw up…" Though it seemed joking, he meant it seriously. His mind simulated a feeling of nausea within him.

The woman who took him here lowered her head, her eyes brimming with tears. "That's why I can never look. I only saw it once…and all I can do is feel sorry for you. There's nanite technology in there, slowly patching over wounds for the say we may be able to bring you back…but as of yet, it's not enough."

She couldn't continue, since she was interrupted by a male voice, echoing from the other side of the room. "Hanii, I thought I instructed everyone not to come here…"

He too, was cut short…by Kazuya, silently seething below a façade of ice. "Why didn't you just tell me? Why didn't you just show me?" as he leaned a metallic hand against the surface of the chamber, he let out a bitter laugh. "Or better yet, why didn't you just leave me dead?"

She old scientist shook his head. "Because I knew you would react like this. I didn't want you to go through the trauma of knowing what you fate was…"

Kazuya stepped forward, rage finally getting the better of his normally cool temperament. He grabbed the old man's collar, and pulled him close. "Oh, so you don't think I have the right to know what happened to me, huh? I'm just your little guinea pig, aren't I? I don't matter, do I? When it comes to your little experiments, I'm just expendable, aren't I? I'm just a mindless automaton for you to perform little tricks on, tinker with, do whatever the fuck you want with, aren't I?!"

Since he got no response, he threw the old man to the floor in disgust. "Let me warn you, you old bastard, if you even think of keeping anything more from me, you'll regret the day you were conceived. Do I make myself clear, or shall I repeat that?" He took a step toward the cowering man as he shuffled back in a panic. "I don't care what you have to say about this, either. You haven't even told me who killed me! You haven't told me how I died, who did it – hell, you weren't even going to show me this! My own body!" 

As the scientist found himself backed up against a wall, he glanced around, whimpering in his state of panic, ready to say his final prayers. Casually, Kazuya slowly crouched down in front of the man. Lifting a hand, he gradually held it out toward the man's face, pausing when he flinched. Without warning, the hand shot out more, his index finger holding the old man's chin up painfully along its length. He smirked.

"Let me tell you know, my friend, that you've picked the wrong man to mess with. No one gets the better of me. I will only ever co-operate to a certain point." His smirk widened. "You should know that by now, Carter."

Struggling against the iron strength of his 'creation', Carter choked a reply. "You remember me?"

"How could I forget? This isn't the first time you've backstabbed me and used me as your little toy."

Carter took a few desperate gasps for air as Kazuya's grip relented. "I would never do such a thing! We saved you from that volcano!"

Kazuya's grin faded into a sneer, and his hand locked around the old man's throat. "Who said anything about me wanting to be 'saved'?!"

Of course, there was nothing but a strangled choke in reply.

He only slightly released his grasp. Sadistically, his head dropped to the side, and the corner of his lips curled downward. "You listen to me, Carter," he began, his deep voice echoing about the room in a near whisper, the words almost forming a sing-song tone, "I'm not going to sit back and relax while you make me into your little circus monkey like last time. Whatever you wish to do, you shall ask me first, and only with my permission may you do anything to me. You know who I am. I will not be treated with such disrespect, ever again. All your findings, you will report to me. Only your goodwill can earn any obedience from me."

He released his hold on Carter's neck. "I'll tell you now; if you wanted a new toy, you picked the wrong man."

With that, he stood up and stalked out of the room. He knew exactly how to get out, and since time had passed, his recollection of the Tokyo branch of G-Corporation had pieced itself together in his mind. He had left here nine years ago to fight in the King of Iron Fist 4. Since then, he'd won the zaibatsu, and changed it into something honest, something worth being proud of. He'd even mended relations with his only son, over years of hard work on the boy; he'd won his respect. That alone meant more to him than all the zaibatsu in the world, not just his own. Now, he didn't know if any of it was worth the effort, since it was all gone. Everyone no doubt knew he was dead.

It was only a short time before Kazuya found a computer terminal in a secluded office. Without hesitation, he logged onto the Internet, and began searching for news – anything for the ninth of June, 2026. It turned out that it was now 2027 – the 1st of August. The date, he knew, was important for some reason…but he couldn't remember why. At any rate, his news search was a success; in the old news archives on an English tabloid website, there was an article involving the 'brutal murder of the world's richest man'. He knew that meant him.

It turned out that there was a reason he couldn't remember the murder. He'd been hit in the back of the head with a solid object, then impaled through the chest from behind. This was in his own office. His body was found at the bottom of a cliff, miles away, ripped and torn to the point it was barely recognisable. The culprit of this atrocity – the former CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu – Heihachi Mishima. In his old age, the only thing he wanted was his 58-year-old son dead. After losing his former strength and power, Heihachi had relied on more brutal means to eliminate his only son – and ended up leaving the Zaibatsu to the next in line of inheritance; a young man who went by the name of Jin Kazama. 

So, the old bastard thought he got the last word in, did he? Suddenly, Kazuya's growing resolve to end his miserable life completely dissolved. Once again, his mind was filled with images of revenge, revenge; torture of the old man who dared eliminate him. Then, he smirked. No, he would wait for the G-Corporation to hurry up and give him a more human appearance, then he would go and visit his father in jail. That would be the final insult.


	3. And So Say All Of Us

A/N: Haven't thought about this story in a while…but 'Ashes To Ashes' and my poor dead chibi had me thinking of my poor dead older Kazu-chan. Here's some more Kazzy goodness ^^;;

By the way everyone…thank you so much for all your fantastic reviews! It really helps, as I'm sure you know from experience. Special thanks goes out to PrincessMichelle, Chibi-Sugababy, Miriya Valentine, Kane x Lita4eva…and everyone else who reads and reviews my stuff regularly…you know who you are, you saints! ^_^; You all ROCK! Oh, and everyone who gives a damn…take a look at my reviews for Crimson. There is a rather sad flame in there…I don't have the heart to delete it. Ah well. Some people don't even know how to insult others properly. Eh, whatever turns them on.

Anyhow…on with the story.

***  
  


The sun was a beautiful thing. Too beautiful to be wasted on his eyes…it should be saved for more deserving people – beautiful people. 

Kazuya's dark eyes watched idly as the crimson orb slowly peeked its head above the mountain range in the distance, spreading its warm, red love over the world around it. The crystalline towers of the city luminesced with the growing orange from the glowing ball. As it rose calmly before his eyes, his view shielded from the true beauty behind a thick window and fake skin, the sky changed with it in artistic gradients across the horizon. From dark blue, to lilac, to pink, orange…and after an hour of standing before the magic…blue again, only in a gentle pastel hue.

Kazuya found himself so mesmerised by the beauty of the sunrise that he didn't notice the young woman from last night had joined him some time ago…and was admiring the view alongside him.

"It's a beautiful sight to behold from this window…"

At the sound of her voice, his attention quickly snapped toward her. Oh…just her. Again. He didn't have the energy to force a smile, so he simply turned back to the window again, stony-faced as ever. "Sight is an empty concept on its own." He knew he wanted to feel the rays of sunshine burn against his skin, warm his body…he loved the sun, even in the darkest moods.

He could tell she was biting her lip. He'd only known her for a few hours, yet already he'd picked up on her habit of biting her lower lip when she was uneasy or nervous. "Well…we hadn't intended to wake you up this early…though it's actually allowed us to do something a little different…"

"What, like install a third arm on my chest?" The cold sneer of sarcasm was so evident in his voice.

She shook her head and sighed. "No…believe it or not it's going to be a good improvement. Consider it a birthday present."

One of his dark brows rose. "Birthday?"

It was his birthday, wasn't it? Yes…it was the 1st of August today. "Well…it is your birthday, isn't it? You ought to get a gift. This one's from G-Corporation…"

His eyes still stayed with the rising sun and the glittering, bustling city below. "I never remember my birthdays. They're unimportant."

She sighed. "Just come along, will you?"

He held no objections, and merely followed her down the corridor to the same room he woke up in, hours ago.

*

Black, again. Blackness for seemingly endless hours. Yet this time he knew exactly what was going on…they had partially deactivated him so they could complete upgrades…he was in almost a dream state, half conscious, unable to move. He could still hear, but he could no longer see; he couldn't open his eyes. Or move anything else for that matter – not even his lips, so he couldn't complain about the fact that they'd been doing whatever it was for hours. 

Finally, they decided they'd finished the three-hour 'upgrade' they'd been performing. Like all machines, even androids, Kazuya had an activation point…only his, since he was so advanced, was in the form of a set of four tiny buttons, rather than one, located at the one single point on his back he couldn't properly reach. The correct combination had to be entered to deactivate him, but activation was simply pressing four all at once. They were so tiny, thankfully, that they could be hidden behind a panel, and had to be pressed with a thin, sharp object.

His eyes snapped open as soon as he was granted freedom of movement. He found himself to be sitting up on the bench rather than lying as he was when he was partially deactivated. After a moment of staring from one face to another, he realised they wanted him to look for himself. The automatic reaction was, of course, to look down at his hands.

When he did so, he knew that if he could feel the artificial heart deep in his chest it would be in his throat right now. He wasn't looking down at the hands he'd fallen asleep with. He was looking down at a pair of youthful, slender hands…with the exact same long, thin fingers he was used to seeing…even the details of the lines on his hands were exactly the same as the ones he'd been born with. 

Fascinated beyond speech, he turned one hand over, slowly opening and closing the fist. The details of the skin were perfect…the patterns of the creases, the way it clung to the bones of his knuckles and finger joints, the slight appearance of the bones on the back of his palm. He had quickly realised he couldn't feel, still…but the hands were perfect. 

By now he was in a state of awe at the sheer realistic appearance of what seemed to be fake skin. It went all the way up his arm, too…both arms. At this point he realised he was stark naked…and completely covered by tanned flesh. Out of one single moment of vanity, he quickly glanced down at his naked crotch…and was immensely pleased to find that they'd endowed him with his original impressive size...and it looked exactly the same, right down to the pattern of the fine layer of hair that lay down there. 

After another final moment of inspection, he looked back up at the scientists. The surprise, and, for once, very slight, very subtle look of happiness was evident in his obsidian eyes. He'd noted the fact that there was not one scar on his body, and every detail, from what he could see, was identical to that on his real body…except for the fact that he even looked a little younger than he'd expected.

"So…this was the 'big surprise'?" For once, that was an honest, humble question…not an acidic, snide, sarcastic remark.

The young woman that seemed to have acquainted herself with him was grinning from ear to ear. "Yes…this is what we wanted to do. The technology was completed just as you walked out last night…this is the first opportunity we've had so far to install it."

He looked down at those beautiful, slender hands again. They were exactly as his real hands were when he was younger. "It's so _real_…"

Again, she smiled. "That's not the best part…"

Normally, it would have been the head of the department that would have spoken to Kazuya…but so far, it seemed he only trusted that scientist woman who'd shown him the truth. She handed him a small, rectangular mirror, which he took, glancing at her for a moment of confirmation…then hesitantly looked into it.

Up until then he'd expected they'd leave his face as it was. He was wrong. When he looked into the reflective glass, he saw the visage of a _young_ Kazuya Mishima, staring back at him with a startled expression. His free hand rose to touch his cheek instinctively…as the digits pressed against the flesh, the soft skin indented perfectly…it was completely realistic. Everything about the young-looking face was delightfully realistic. He never thought of himself as attractive…but since he never experienced his youth, since he was dead for most of it, seeing this was something he couldn't help but smile at. And he did…one of those very rare, very slight smiles crept across his face. 

The head scientist finally spoke up. "Underneath all that is where the real technology lies. Yes, this is the most realistic artificial skin you will ever have the pleasure of seeing – and you now own all there is of it – but beneath it lies even more impressive feats of science…"

Kazuya gave him a glare that would cut anyone short…especially the mildly nervous middle-aged lab-coat-laden man. "Don't bother with the techno-babble; just spit it out before we all fall asleep…"

He gulped, nodded, and continued. He considered himself warned; indeed, Kazuya Mishima was not a man to be crossed in the wrong way. "Y-yes, of course…" He took a breath. "Well, to put it simply, we've also installed systems within your skin and inside your body; the most impressive upgrade is a complete artificial gland network…you now have tear glands, a sinus system, sweat glands…and further inside, you have many more functional systems, not limited to a fully functional digestive system, networks installed for a nervous system later on, an entire circulatory system – you may notice later that the coolant we've used within it is now red – the same shade as blood." He took a deep breath again, since he said all of that in almost one breath. "Basically…you're about ten steps closer to being completely human."

Kazuya was silent. Somehow, with all of this, he still didn't feel human. Because he couldn't _feel. But nevertheless, he knew that it would come with time. They'd even set up the pathways. And to add to that, he no longer hat that hideous old face of his…or at least, a face he considered to be hideous. He could never look at himself straight in the mirror, and could never understand why people only took an effort to avoid his temper, not his visage. If anything, perhaps this renewed youth would pay off…compared to what he used to look like…he had to admit…he didn't look too bad._

The young woman stepped in front of the old man, and reached down to give Kazuya a firm hug around the shoulders and a peck on the cheek. "Happy Birthday, Mr Mishima…"

He submitted, and offered her a soft smile. No point in trying to put forth a stoic façade. "Domo arigatou."


	4. The Roof Garden

A/N: Whee, update update update. Yay...those four words all got a red line underneath them ^_^;; Duncha just love Microsoft Word? Mwah.

It's 10:30 pm as I finish this, and I'm ready to konk out on the keyboard. The last part of the story is a bit...well...in my famous words... "BLARG!"...but hey. By the way...when you're home alone...yell out 'blarg' at the top of your damn lungs. It sounds hilarious.

On with it, idiot... *whips her own ass* O.;;

***

For some reason, the sky seemed bluer than it had yesterday.

The fact that the weather had been equally as delicious for the last week, apparently, had absolutely no importance whatsoever in determining the uplifted mood of the azure world above him. He'd taken up residence on the roof garden of the G-Corporation building, and was staring up at the pale sapphire abyss above, watching the merry, light-hearted little white fluff-balls sail across its depths, as if there was nothing better to do in the world than float aimlessly. Below, way below, the anarchy of the city raged in all its glory; the blinking, flashing veins of the city's streets raged with the volume of Tokyo traffic it was forced to contend with day after day, like a warrior's circulatory system in the heat of battle – little coloured dots racing about in surprising uniformity, though it certainly looked like a close-up of living tissue through a microscope, with a perfect view of a capillary network.

Not that he could see the bustling streets, that is. He was flat on his back on a patch of grass – since the roof was a large place, occupied solely by a garden and a randomly placed elevator door – one ankle hooked over the other, arms beneath his neck, obsidian eyes locked on the blue nothingness above, almost as if in a trance.

It was so nice being alone sometimes. He'd learned, the hard way, that loneliness can be the ultimate source of depression...but occasionally, with idiots zooming around like rabid dogs, and for once – just this once – he noticed women staring him up and down in the complex...mainly because of his state of dress – a pair of slacks. Period. He was still in that same state of dress, soaking up the sun. Thankfully, the shadow of the tree behind him had moved, finally. Since it was now after three in the afternoon, the sun was at a less intense, slightly more comfortable angle.

Four hours he'd been up here now...it was nine when they finished the procedure, and ten by the time he'd managed to escape their ramblings on the full extent of the upgrades...after which, he'd discovered the roof garden, and had remained there since he found it.

In his mind, things had slowly begun to simmer down and relax. The anger, confusion, disorientation, violation...they'd all worn down somewhat into a more tolerable mixture. He'd become used to the idea – not that he liked it one single bit – that he couldn't, and probably will, ever again, feel. Smell and taste were under that same category.

Yet, in the usual Kazuya Mishima stoicism, he had decided to wrestle with the brute of a fact, and beat it. He could do it easily. After all, he didn't need any more angry outbursts of disapproval of his current state.

So far, it was working shakily. The sun, he knew, wasn't heating him up in the slightest. He didn't even feel cold, he felt nothing. But he was forcing his brain to think otherwise. Sun...it warms the skin, soaks into the flesh. Sun, in great quantities, burns. Sun makes clothes smell fresh. Sun is hot. The more he reminded himself, convinced himself, the more easily he could almost _feel the burn in his mind. At this point, though it kept on fading, he could imagine his flesh feeling that beautiful sensation of lying under the sun, almost burning in its blissful rays. Since it had begun to work...he imagined children, women, boys and girls...running around with pails of sand, spades, towels, umbrellas, bikinis, surfboards, ice creams, waves, sand dunes, the hot grains beneath his toes, the salty coolness of the ocean, the rush of the waves hitting the shore, a screech or two from a sea-bird..._

The days of his distant childhood. How sweet they must have been...he could barely remember the old days...before his soul died. He'd always considered his soul dead. That fall, at five years old, had let his body live...but his soul died down there. He was an empty husk of a human being, and had been since that day.

Or so he'd thought. Of course, Jun Kazama had proven her point – he was just mistreated and depressed. She'd shown him what it was like to be loved...as brief and intense as their relationship had been...and it had resulted in a son.

Jin. His only son. He loved the boy...though he'd never admitted it, least of all to Kazama's face. Actions spoke louder than words, after all. How was he doing, as the Zaibatsu CEO? Successful? Married, perhaps? One day he'd go and find out. After he'd dealt with his old man.

Before he could let his mind wander to that topic, he resumed thinking of sun. He even threw the waves back in for good measure. He could almost smell the salt...and taste the salt too, like he'd done when he'd nearly disappeared beneath a wave at age three. His mother had dragged him out...both were in a state of hysteria...the worried woman nearly in tears, and Kazuya nearly in tears with laughter. Yes...how he'd loved escaping death from the very first breath.

_No Kazuya, think sun. Sun! No more memories..._ He scolded himself for losing track so easily. Heat, warmth...he could do this. He could overcome this loss without stupid science messing him up even further.

Ah yes, heat. Heat came to mind. Beautiful, warm, golden heat. He almost smiled; he'd never realised how much he took for granted. He'd never been a sunshine person, and now, without it, he felt somewhat empty. There was a soul in there though, he could feel it. Without human senses in the way, he could feel it there. That too, made him almost smile. Almost.

_Sun, fool, sun. _

How easily the mind could wander. This was going to be harder than he thought. So, once again, he remembered heat. Lots of heat.

Too much heat. The sun vanished in a pool of molten magma before his very eyes...all he could see was the boiling, sizzling red rock beneath the sulphurous fumes. The memory forced him to sit up with a start. He shook his head about to clear the foul images, and tried to calm himself, distract himself, by admiring the garden surrounding him. In the past, he'd never been fascinated by nature, but today, for some reason, it had become the perfect retreat, predictably enough, from the horrendous world of technology. Though it was a roof, with concrete floors, trees grew around the place, amongst large hedges and carefully clipped grass. A lot of money had been put into laying down soil and foundations for this urban oasis.

A hollow laugh escaped his throat. What sort of black humour had life thrown upon him? Typical...as soon as he tries to help himself, he'd automatically be reminded of his brutal past. Maybe he should convince that young woman to wipe parts of his memory...she seemed to want to help him so much, why not take it a step further?

Then again, he wouldn't remember to 'wail on his father', so that boy Hwoarang would have put it, for getting him into this mess. Ah well, he'd have to live with it. Maybe, just maybe, he'll find happiness to bury himself in one day. One day.

The tranquillity of the garden was broken momentarily with the 'ding' of the lift arriving at the top floor. His raven eyes locked on the doors as they opened...it was none other than that woman who seemed to have latched onto him so far.

She saw him, smiled, and walked over casually, a long silver mug filled with some sort of piping hot liquid in one hand. He made no effort to shoo her away, nor to invite her to sit beside him...he simply watched her in her approach. Brushing her skirt beneath her, she sat down on the grass beside him, and rested the coffee precariously on the grass on her other side. 

For a while, nothing was said. The two sat in complete silence...he'd always communicated best when not a word was spoken...and she seemed to have developed an affinity for him, somehow...she, so far, had been the only really human person around him...the only companion he'd had...throughout this whole bizarre ordeal.

He shifted slightly, and dragged his knees up so he could wrap his arms around them. The muscles in his back rippled faintly beneath the olive synthetic skin; it might as well have been real, at least visually and texturally. He thought for a moment...he didn't know what to address her by, now that he felt the need to talk.

"Funny," he began, his deep voice soft as the breeze floating warmly amongst the leaves in the tree behind him, "You know my name...in fact you seem to know everything about me...yet you haven't even told me yours."

She smiled through a sip of coffee. "Okazaki Hanii."

The name was instantly familiar. She was a relation of a scientist from years and years ago...and how fitting. He'd discovered the method DNA goes about replicating...and here she was, working at the G-Corporation with genetics. "Alright...Miss Okazaki."

Chuckling, she set her coffee down. "Please, just call me Hanii. My colleagues about the place call me Ha-chan."

"Ha-chan...Interesting nickname."

She perked a brow. "It's not that unusual...haven't you got a nickname? Everyone has a nickname..." _Of course he doesn't, she thought to herself._

Of course, he shook his head. "No, I don't think anyone dares. Even my cheeky brother always called me Kazuya. Everyone else calls me 'Mr Mishima'..." His tone was dry, almost as if bored with the idea of being referred to by his family name.

"That's sad," Hanii muttered, and took another sip of coffee, before continuing. "With all due respect...it's pretty boring to be called by nothing but your given names..."

That sounded to him like he was a military general..._with all due respect_...where'd that spring from? He forced back a smile before it broke out on his now youthful face. "Well, if you're going to be like that...my mother used to call me Kazu-chan when I was very young...or just Kazzy..." A hint of red crept across the top of his cheeks. Back then it was fine...but on a grown man? Kazzy? The faded, distant memories of his mother were sobering, but at the same time, it brought warmth to him inside...warmth. Why hadn't he thought of that earlier?

Hanii giggled softly into her mug. "Kazzy...that's adorable. But I think I'd better follow the trend and keep it official. After all...I don't think I'd dare cross lines that ought not to be crossed..."

He arched a brow, and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "What do you mean?"

Her fingers fumbled nervously with the handle of the mug. She could feel herself digging, digging...little clods of earth and grass flying about from the hole she was digging in the ground. "Well...most people are scared of showing you any disrespect...most don't want to get clobbered."

At that, he laughed quietly and shook his head slowly in disbelief. And to think, in his history of fifty-eight years, the only people he'd ever clobbered were opponents in battles. He had always considered violence without justification to be a result of lack of control, discipline, and taste. "That's ridiculous."

She swallowed a mouthful of caffeine. "How so?" Digging further and further...almost two feet now. Only four more to go.

"Well, for a start, there's the fact that I don't 'clobber' anyone without a good reason." He indicated the first point with one long, slender finger extended. "Secondly, there's the fact that I don't really expect that 'respect'...I never quite understood it myself...I did little to earn it, yet I seem to get it, along with fear and resentment." A middle finger was extended with that next point. "And of course...what's the harm in calling me Kazuya? It's not like I'll thump anyone just for calling me that...that'd be extremely bad taste, and, more to the point, rather embarrassing and unnecessary on my behalf." He held up the three extended fingers. "There, three reasons why it's ridiculous to be so scared of me you can't call me Kazuya..." 

Hanii smiled and rested a small hand on Kazuya's bared shoulder. "Alright then...Kazuya..." The name rolled tentatively off the tip of her tongue...but at least she said it. It had slipped out before, but out of haste. Now that she knew he didn't mind, it seemed so much more sincere, so much more of a privilege to call the former richest, most powerful, strongest man in the world by his first name...it was almost affectionate. The mere thought sent a thrill through her bones...it excited her. 

He smiled softly in return, and touched her hand lightly with his fingertips of the opposite arm's hand. "See? That wasn't so hard."

It seemed he wasn't the harsh, violent man the media had made him out to be. He looked formidable and ferocious...those cold eyes, those harsh eyebrows, the sculpted features...but when he smiled and talked in that soft, gentle tone...he transformed into the most gorgeous creature she'd ever laid eyes on. She had to admit...the reason she wanted to help him so badly, from the day she was assigned to work on his ruined body and developing android self, was because of the compassion she felt when she first cast eyes upon him. He looked like a lonely, depressed man...despite the reputation he'd been given by the media. 

She sighed softly. "I know...I guess I was just being dramatic like everyone else on this planet." After a moment, she realised he was growing a little uneasy with her closeness...what with her leaning on his shoulder like he was her possession or something. She sat back. "You act as if you've never had a close friend."

A near-silent, bitter laugh escaped him. "I've never had a friend _period_."

The urge to gasp, cry, hug and kiss him to make it all better was almost overwhelming...but she kept her cool, for his sake. "Well in that case...if you like a friend...whenever you need one...I'll be right here..."

There was silence for a moment. He didn't know how to respond...a friend? Not a colleague, an associate...a friend. The smile came inevitably...one of the many he'd made today as compared to usual. Hanii's heart melted at the sight...he was such a beauty, particularly when he looked happy. "A friend...is much appreciated. Domo arigatou..."

She couldn't resist...with a happy squeak, she tossed her arms around his neck in a tight embrace, almost knocking him down, and succeeded in doing so to her coffee. "You're very very welcome, Kazuya." Before he got the chance to become uncomfortable again, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek...not without marvelling at how realistic the soft, warm skin turned out to be. The G-Corporation would no doubt win countless prizes at science fairs for this piece of cutting-edge brilliance.

He did indeed turn out to look quite embarrassed by her outburst, but said nothing. She coughed lightly and retrieved her spilled cup, righted it, and set it down again. "You know...we could really use you on the team with our next project."

He perked a brow. "Why would you need me? I'm no scientific genius..."

Great, how do you tell him you need a guinea-pig, and he's the prime candidate? You don't. "Well...you're the one with the machinery we're centring the research on...that, and you have a lot of knowledge that could be put to better work than lounging around. You don't want to put that great intellect to waste, do you?"

He scoffed at that remark. "Intellect? What intellect?" He muttered something in English, then returned to Japanese a moment later. "I'm nothing unusual you know...I just know how to play almost any game thrown in front of me."

Hanii shook her head. "Playing games doesn't make you the most successful CEO in world history to date...and your past experiences, as horrible as they were, have only made you a better person..."

Kazuya had seriously considered walking off at that point...his low opinion of himself was bordering on considering her words to be dripping in sarcasm. "Whatever you say." _His words certainly were._

"Well...whatever you think...what do you say? Will you help us?"

He shrugged. What else was there to do? At least if he was on the team, he could supervise their stupidity and get some results, faster, and find out what the hell was going on at the same time as everyone else was.

"Alright, I'm in."

Smiling, she stood, and grasped one of his hands, dragging him up off his feet. Emotionlessly as usual, he followed her once more; though inside, he was smiling...smiling with the knowledge that he had a purpose. After all, if everything went smoothly from now on...he'd be the old Kazuya again pretty soon...only, slightly improved here and there...


	5. Failures and Explosions

"Damnit!"

The words echoed through the laboratory, painfully loudly as it so happened. The tension in the room was unbelievable; coupled with the weight of the research that seemed to go nowhere, a long list of failed experiments, and the constant reminder of a less-than-wonderful pay...they now had Kazuya Mishima on their tails. Almost all of the researchers in the place were being reminded of how the Mishima Zaibatsu went from the most powerful in the country to the most powerful in the world...first-hand.

Staring down at the damaged, steaming equipment and chipboards, Hanii let out a sigh to break the silence. "What he said."

Kazuya, at this point, looked a little more than flustered. A month's research, down the drain. Second time in a row that had happened, too. He couldn't tell whether his joining the team two months ago had affected their efficiency, but he knew that at the moment, it was pretty damn atrocious.

As the crowd dissipated and returned to their respective computer screens or lab tables, Kazuya shoved his hands into the front pockets of his white lab coat, and stared down at the mess of components on the table, disgruntled to say the least.

"I'm glad that wasn't my _head_ those parts were connected to."

A few chuckles were heard through the room...but no one dared to go further than that. Kazuya was already in a foul enough mood without provoking him. 

Hanii brushed aside the ruined, smouldering parts, and leaned her elbows on the table, letting her head drop into her hands. "This is never going to work..."

Kazuya rolled his eyes and frowned. "You're too pessimistic. The only thing that doesn't work is keeping me dead."

The room tensed noticeably.

"You know what this corporation needs?"

Hanii glowered at the dismal remains of their experiment, and hummed a reply exasperatedly. "Hm?"

"New management. Whoever runs the place sucks."

Coming from him, that wasn't such a bad thing. Then again, in another light, it most definitely wasn't a good thing either. She brushed at the smut-marks on the bench top, and forced an emotionless smile. "I guess you're not the kind of man to work under someone who doesn't do as good a job as you, ne Mishima-san?" In public, she still referred to him properly.

The laugh that escaped Kazuya was more of a snort. "Hmph! From Zaibatsu CEO to employee of a rival company?" He smirked. "I dunno, but it's an _interesting_ demotion to say the least."

They were interrupted once again by the whining, high-pitched voice of one of the newer researchers. She had leaned over the back of her chair, and was complaining to the head of the department once again... "Sir, I can't get this stupid computer to work! I've tried everything, I've been trying for ages, and I don't know what else to do! I..."

She, of course, continued to complain in that same whining, high-pitched, nasally voice, rattling off excuses and cursing towards the machine. The department head, why just happened to be Carter unfortunately, gave her a mildly worn look as she prattled on endlessly. Frustrated with her lack of social skills – heck, skills _period_ – Kazuya interrupted too. "Listen, we don't want a running commentary on your hopelessness, we all have work to do – as a matter of fact, so do you! If you can't handle the pressure, then perhaps you should apply for another job – you already get paid way too much for that little you do here!" He approached the woman, who'd by now shut her trap firmly, and peered over her shoulder to see what she'd been doing – absolutely nothing. She was hopeless! After a few clicks of the mouse, Kazuya had her program up, running and working perfectly. After he'd done so, he scowled heavily at her, before turning to Carter. "Why is it you only seem to have it in for me?"

The old man's brow creased, and he turned back to his work. "Mishima-san, I have nothing against you..."

He cut in again. "Sure you don't."

Carter sighed, and continued with his work. "Kazuya, you happen to have been the centre-point of my research; it's not in my heart to scold people for a job badly done – and I most certainly don't have anything against the one whose mere presence has brought me a reputation within the company I'd never even imagined..."

At this point, Kazuya rolled his eyes dramatically and walked off to the other side of the lab with a heavy sigh. Without anything further to say, he simply sat down at the workbench there, and resumed tapping away at the computer's keys, in the hopes of helping the corporation find another way to create these damned technological nervous systems.

***  
  
The warm night air of the great city below was surprisingly peaceful on the roof garden – the sounds of motors and horns below were so distant they might as well not exist. Kazuya had contented himself with watching over the metropolis from the great wall at the side of the building; peacefully watching the little white and red lights move about slowly, going about their business. 

For now, he was alone. Hanii and the others had gone home for the evening – since it was nearly ten at night – so he'd been left to his own devices. Rather than sit in the boring great cafeteria downstairs and drink coffee that he couldn't smell or taste, or sit in his tiny little so-called apartment the corporation had set up for him, here he was, watching over a city he once had enough money to buy over and over many a time. 

As usual, rather than feel sorry for himself, he'd found himself thinking about the day's work. Of late he'd been pondering the futility of their attempts to create a nervous system for any form of automaton – particularly from scratch, with the hap-hazard way the G-Corporation seemed to like going about their experiments. Instead, he believed they should be basing their research purely off the functioning of a human nervous system, and stop jumping ahead of themselves; it would be easier to begin with replacing damaged human parts, would it not, rather than trying to create something entirely new?

He'd present the idea tomorrow, once everyone was back into work. After all, he wasn't selfish – there were others that needed technological assistance. He could wait for a slice of life to be returned to him whilst others frolicked and laughed carefree, romping through the paddocks of life and liveliness.

As the night wound on and on, Kazuya finally decided to call it a night, and retreat to his room. Though technically he didn't need sleep and could go infinitely without rest, his mind was still human, and wearied, just like it once did in his human body. The only difference was that it took about three days rather than one, since his body wasn't the cause of tiredness. 

Eventually he got back to his room and sat down on the bed, after locking the door, and pulled off his clothes – dark slacks, a light blue short-sleeved shirt, leather shoes, grey socks...wearing nothing but a pair of black satin boxers, he clambered under the covers of the bed – even though he wouldn't feel the cold without, or the warmth beneath them. At least being an automaton guaranteed him sleep if he wanted it. He could partially deactivate himself, that is, fall asleep, and wake up whenever he pleased; none of this nonsense of lying awake till the early hours, willing sleep to come and the nightmares that plagued him all his life to go away.


	6. Fire And Ice

A/N: Here's another juicy chapter...I was pondering using this idea later on in the story...but I think it's about time to make like paracetamol and cure some pain!

Enjoy...

***

It was quiet in the laboratory today. It was a Sunday morning, after all, and hardly anyone ever came to work on a Sunday, particularly this early. Though, lately, under his influence, people had actually started working longer hours at stranger times, had begun to put more effort into their research, and as a result, the research was advancing at a much greater rate than before. As Kazuya had promised them, they were reaping the benefits of the G-Corporation receiving greater funding and greater income; they were doing likewise. 

Yet still, early Sunday mornings were everyone's pet hate – except Kazuya himself. He was sitting back in what would usually be a mildly uncomfortable chair – but he couldn't feel it could he? – So he was perfectly happy with what he was doing. At the current moment, it was tinkering with a new idea for the biomechanical nervous system he so wanted to create. It had been at least six months since he'd started on the project, and it had sped up immensely since his arrival. 

Though, after interpreting his ideas wrongly, the researchers had begun to work on theories for biomechanical limbs rather than the sense of touch he'd planned on. Still, he was completely unselfish, and worked with them almost obediently in their quest. It was Sunday mornings that he continued his own research – research for the cure for the maddening silence of a world of a computer. Sight and sound were completely hollow on their own; much like a video of life being played for him day in and day out.

But Kazuya Mishima, being the long-suffering man he was, simply played along and lived with it. The hopes of actually achieving his goals were drifting further and further from him; his goals to become human again. He'd almost surrendered to his fate, if it weren't for the limited success he'd had of late.

And he'd discovered that all his life he'd been wrong about himself. With the many hours he had free to sit on the roof garden and think, he'd discovered that he'd never lost his soul at all. The body he was in was hollow; without feeling. Within it, his mind had plenty of room to rattle around in like a pea in a pod; as it was doing so, it bumped into his soul. Or at least, what he'd interpret as a human soul. Passion, emotion, will to live. Realistically, he knew that there was no such thing as a soul in a biological sense. It was merely the irrational, passionate side of the human mind – what makes humans human. And he still had it, noticeable now more than ever. It was a pleasing thought.

He forced his mind to drift back to the matter at hand; the nervous system. His own theories had been put to action in the computer simulation...so far, so good. The biomechanical cell he'd created responded well to the tests (in the simulation, that is) and hadn't exploded like the previous tests. Perhaps this might be bordering on getting somewhere.

The silence was shattered, at least to his sensitive ears, when the door quietly creaked open on the other side of the room. He knew who it was, though, and didn't turn from the screen; he kept on clicking at the mouse beneath his hand. The light clicking of heels on the polished vinyl floor, the soft breaths...they drew closer, until slim, small arms crossed themselves against the back of his neck.

"You're here early this morning, Hanii..."

She chuckled softly and leaned against his shoulders a little more. "Ah, nothing like a bit of work in the weekends to refresh the mind and build the motivation..."

His dark eyes rolled and a small smile fell across his lips, but he continued working. After she gave him a quick hug, she hopped onto a chair next to him, and booted up the computer in front of it. He was used to her random affections by now, because he knew the nature of them well. They two, over the last half year, had spent a lot of time together over coffee and under the sun; that is, when they weren't working. She'd told him how much trouble she'd had with men, being a woman with a keen mind, and simply wanted a male friend rather than a lover...someone other than a woman friend to talk to about stuff. He was happy to have a friend too, he didn't care who it was, just as long as they wanted his company. Even now, it still flattered and thrilled him that she appreciated his presence.

There was of course the issue of his appearance, too; which explained her closeness to him physically. Apparently, they'd engineered his body to have a certain heat output through the skin; that, with the appearance of a fit young man, and perfectly realistic-seeming flesh...most of the women around could barely keep their hands off him. Hanii was the only one he allowed to touch him. After all, he was really a creature of solitude. He was patient with her hugs and petting too; he couldn't feel it, and it frustrated him...but he knew it made her feel good. She was a touchy-feely person by nature, one of those people that showed their love for anyone through contact. He tolerated it even more when she did lose her resistance, because she always kept her hands to herself in the presence of others. She was incredibly disciplined.

"Kazuya, if you like, I can continue working today while you're out..." Her soft voice broke the silence again.

He blinked and glanced at her. "I'm going out?"

After a moment, she gave him a mildly incredulous look. "Don't tell me you've forgotten..."

He returned her look with a typical Kazuya Mishima '_what sort of idiot are you, what do you think?'_ look. Then he remembered, and sighed in slight dismay. "Oh. Oh yeah. Great, there goes my whole day..."

"Hey, just remember, it's only one day."

He rolled his eyes once again. "Yeah, one day of being talked to like a damn computer and being humiliated..."

Hanii shoved him playfully, causing him to smile in return. "It's better than being deactivated and examined, right?"

He shrugged, and pushed away from the computer table. "Yeah...oh well, I'll put up with it for as long as I have to...I can always go back and train sometime after to relieve the stress..."

***  
  
Speaking of stress, it had already begun. The G-Corporation's main scientific minds were parading their greatest creation through the halls of the science convention building, towards the main office. At the moment, no one would be able to pick who it was that had this greatest creation, so to speak, since Kazuya too was wearing a black suit, white shirt and blue tie like everyone else...sans white lab coat.

"Remember Kazuya..." Carter began – it seemed he'd once again forgotten Kazuya hated him, and hated being bossed around by him; "Act like a machine as much as you can. Try to limit human responses."

"Basically all I need to do is keep my eyes forward and mouth shut. I know I know, I've been told a thousand times, I don't need to be told again..."

The rest of the journey, needless to say, was in silence. They arrived that the main office within the building...which was almost as richly decorated as Heihachi Mishima's old office in the Mishima mansion. After being invited to sit down, the Director stood and walked across to Carter. "Thomas, let's see this ingenious creation of yours..."

The balding western man offered a hand towards Kazuya, who was sitting in one of the leather chairs, successfully managing to look slightly 'robotic'; sitting straight and upright in the chair, looking ahead, chin up...somehow managing to look somewhat vacant at the same time. He also limited his breathing; he didn't need the oxygen intake after all. Being an automaton also granted him the ability to remain dead still with little concentration. The Director, needless to say, was very impressed.

"Goodness, you kept your word alright...could've fooled me!" He walked over to Kazuya slowly, and pulled lightly at some of the raven hair hanging down over the sides of his face. "Hm...very realistic...almost perfect. A little synthetic, but the most realistic I've seen to date."

The hand trailed down to feel the skin on Kazuya's cheekbones. Even as the man pulled firmly on a chunk of skin on his cheek, Kazuya didn't blink once, didn't move his face at all...he didn't respond at all. His head was tilted this way and that, his hands were examined...the more he was checked over, the more the Director was impressed. Carter too, was thrilled beyond words at Kazuya's restraint and acting.

"What else is it able to do besides look like a human?"

Kazuya resisted the urge to thump the guy for calling him an _it_.

"Well, he moves perfectly realistically...he'll respond if you give him an instruction."

At Carter's words, he resisted thumping both of them.

"Alright then." The Director paused. "Does it have a name?"

Carter shrugged. "Well, we've given him the name Kazuya."

The Director nodded, and straightened his overly expensive Italian suit. "Kazuya...stand."

Obediently, with no hands involved, Kazuya stood straight up in front of the chair, still facing forward. The members of the scientific community gasped at the fluid movement; the Director smiled. 

"Walk to the other side of the room."

After the Director stepped aside, Kazuya proceeded to walk smoothly to the other side of the room, but with precision in each step, as if he'd been programmed to do so. He stopped before he met the wall, and remained facing it.

One of the women from a rival company smirked at the view, noticing what lay beneath the black slacks Kazuya was wearing. "Hm, you seem to have put a lot of effort into its appearance, G-Corp...it's got a very nice bottom."

Now _that took a lot of restraint not to react to...a few of the G-Corporation staff members present cringed inwardly for Kazuya's sake. Kazuya himself managed not to blush, thank goodness. _

The Director folded his arms over his chest, smirking. "Yes, this is indeed a marvel of scientific genius. Now if only you could develop a suitable artificial intelligence to match the android body you've created, this would be the most advanced piece of technology on the planet." He looked over at Kazuya, who was still standing facing the wall like he was told to. "Kazuya, walk back over here and sit down."

He did so immediately, still looking ahead vacantly.

"Perhaps we should show you the extent of his capabilities..." Carter began. 

All eyes were on the old man. "He can do more?" The Director was surprised. Of course there were machines that were able to walk around and respond with primitive speech, but this one was so realistic they hadn't expected much more than the fluid, graceful walking they'd seen; that, and the ability to stand and sit so easily.

Carter nodded, and stood. "There's plenty of room in the main hall, I believe." Somehow, Kazuya knew that this was going to be an opportunity to show off.

The large group proceeded down the corridors of the ornate building toward the main hall, Kazuya walking in the middle as a source of fascination to all the non-G-Corp personnel as he followed the Director and Carter. The hall, when they arrived there, was more of a hotel function room, minus the carpets and tables. The floor was parquetry, stained and polished with a deep brown lacquer, and decorated with massive velvet drapes and a few oversized chandeliers. It was easy to see where the funds from some of the supporting companies went in this place.

They made their way to the centre of the hall, the non-G-Corp people standing a way back to see what was going to happen next. One of the G-Corporation women unbuttoned Kazuya's coat and slipped it off him, draping the article over her forearm, and followed everyone back to where the others were standing.

"So, what's this all about?" The Director of the scientific community was immensely curios at this point. Kazuya was standing in all his glory at the centre of what now seemed more like an arena.

Carter glanced at the woman who had the Mishima's jacket. She had been an avid follower of the man, after all, and knew more about what to do at this point. She grinned at the opportunity to flash some of her knowledge.

"Well, I suppose we ought to give you a display of why we named him Kazuya. We decided to model him on the late Kazuya Mishima for his physiology and physical abilities..." Carter then let the woman continue.

She beamed with pride as all eyes fell upon her. "We've programmed a few kata from the Mishima style of karate. He performs them with remarkable accuracy and power."

Kazuya himself was feeling just a little better about the whole situation; the woman had even been considerate enough to remove his coat! Hopefully she'd order him to do something fancy...it was about time he showed off in front of a prospective audience.

Lucky for him, he'd predicted right. She directed her next order at him. "Kazuya...choose one of the black belt kata, and perform it..."

The Director arched a brow. "So he can make his own decisions too?"

Carter nodded as Kazuya took his stance. "To a degree. He'll randomly select one of the martial arts routines we've programmed in him and perform it for you."

Over the next minute, there was silence in the room. Silence, with the exception of the sound of booted feet connecting with the wooden floor, and the sound of fabric snapping against the synthetic flesh as a particularly swift and powerful punch or kick was thrown. The particular kata he'd chosen was fairly simple to watch, but with tricky moves that required intense balance and discipline; there was bending and twisting, particularly precise slices and blocks, intricate defences and offences; it was the ideal performance for showing off. And no one present knew exactly what was coming next; Mishima karate, after all, was different from traditional styles, and phenomenally difficult to master for most. Then again, he, as the former master of it (since he was considered dead by most, he was no longer the current champion) he knew every move, every kata perfectly – and had developed a few of his own.

With the final kick, a painfully high and fast roundhouse followed by a swift parry, he paused, drew his ankles together, let his arms drop to his sides, and bowed at his audience...who broke out in applause after a few seconds of stunned silence. Once again, Kazuya's eyes focussed on the nothingness ahead of him, returning to that blank, mechanised stare he'd perfected over the stay at this place.

The Director stood in awe, unable to fully comprehend how any human could have performed that intricate kata...let alone an automaton! The woman walked forward after the applause had died down, and put Kazuya's coat back on him buttoning it up and brushing it down somewhat as he stood there obediently as ever.

"Brilliance...sheer brilliance!" The Director was obviously unable to think of better words to describe what he witnessed. 

Carter beamed, and prepared to return to the G-Corporation. "One day, when we have the proper mind to put with this body...we shall meet again."

***  
  


"I think I should get a Grammy for the performance I put on today..." It almost sounded like he was whinging, but not quite. He wasn't one to complain, but after today... "I feel like a circus act."

Hanii chuckled, and ran a hand through his thick black hair. The computer screen in front of him had some interesting results – six hours of Hanii's expertise had brought his theories to life...and over the last hour, she'd been experimenting. He'd been sitting in the lab trying to catch up with the advancements she'd made.

"Don't worry, we all appreciate you here much more than those high-class jerks over at that convention ever will..." After kissing the top of his head, she wandered back over to her workbench, and resumed her tinkering. 

A good half an hour of silence and hard work ensued, with people coming in and out occasionally to drop off or retrieve materials and information, or to do a bit of work...but for the most part, they were alone in each other's company. Thankfully, there was no exploding equipment this time. 

Just as Kazuya had caught up with what had proceeded during the day, two things happened at once; Hanii let out a euphoric cry of delight, and Carter burst into the room completely unexpectedly. The only reaction he could come up with was to turn around in his chair and stare at the both of them, somewhat stunned at the outbursts.

"Okazaki, I just received word of your trials...how's it going?" The old man was slightly breathless.

Hanii was unable to keep herself from bouncing up and down happily. "It works!"

Both men looked at her, surprised to say the least. "It works?" Both spoke in unison.

She nodded madly, and motioned for both to come over to her workstation. When they did, they saw, sitting on the bench top, a network of extremely fine fibres, branching out from a slightly longer and thicker central wire. Even that though, was remarkably thin and delicate. The points at the very end of each of the nearly invisible fibre were tipped in some sort of metal-like substance.

"This," she pointed down at the fibre system, "Is the first biomechanical nerve network on this planet."

Carter's eyes lit up, and both of Kazuya's brows rose considerably. She didn't give them time to respond. Instead, she retrieved a small contraption with an opening for the end of the fibrous network, and connected the two. The invisible fibres glowed like little blue spider-webs. "Now, when the nerves respond to stimuli, this light here lights up to a certain degree, depending on the reaction." She indicated the little LED on the contraption with a finger.

The first thing she picked up was a small metal rod, which she placed against the metallic tips of the fibres. The light lit up to a moderate level. "Basic touch."

Before they could react to that, she picked it up again, and dropped it into them from a few inches above. The light lit up a brighter green for a moment, before slowly fading to its original colour of a medium glow. "Impact...the brightness indicated what would be interpreted in the mind as slight pain."

The two men watched on as she demonstrated more...her cold hand lit up the light a medium green, while a piece of ice made it brighter...a warm cloth, a hot piece of metal all made the light shine as well. They were left in awe.

"The fun part begins with installation. At the moment these are just general nerve fibres...but they need to be programmed by function. Regular skin isn't too sensitive, so their sensitivity would be lowered. They would feel pain at a certain degree, and other sensations would come with the human mind's adaptation and interpretation. Pleasure, heat, cold, impact, pressure, gravity..."

She could feel Kazuya staring at her hopefully. He knew it had been futile to hope to date...but he was only human, right?

"The best part about all of this..." she smiled happily at the both of them, one after another... "Is that it's ready to be tested!"

Carter grinned and nodded. "Well then, I'll let you alone with Mr Mishima if you wish to make use of a test subject..."

For once, Kazuya didn't snarl at him for referring to him as a guinea pig, as predicted. After all, this was what he wanted, right? Carter simply made his way out of the room, leaving the two alone with the new marvel of technology.

Kazuya, in his state of stunned silence, found himself being pushed into sitting on a nearby operating table by Hanii, who was still in a sate of overexcitement. She pressed his head down as she came over with the equipment. It was at that moment she decided to ask permission to continue. "You don't mind getting this experimental upgrade, right?"

He grinned somewhat and shook his head. He couldn't help but smile...he could barely believe it was true! Yet, deep down, he knew it was destined to fail – because he had his hopes up. Life had a habit of doing that to him. "Of course not, go right ahead..."

In silence, the proceeded to prepare his systems for the upgrade...she removed a panel on the side of his head – his ear, and quite a lot of area around it, including a small amount of the side of his face, and quite a bit of hair. The hearing on one side of his head went a little strange as a result...muffled, distant, and incoherent. While he lay there thinking to himself, she carefully threaded the fibres through the pre-prepared passages for the future nervous system the corporation had been planning. After snipping away overly long portions to the perfect lengths, she connected the main pathway to the side of his skull exposed. 

After a few minutes of careful manoeuvring of equipment and technology, the side of his head was replaced...completely seamlessly. With a soft giggle, Hanii brushed his dark hair back into place with her fingers.

"So, where exactly did you install it?" His lowered voice broke the heavy silence. 

"Earlobe." She put the equipment aside, and helped him sit up.

_My earlobes?_ He thought to himself. Immediately he was reminded of how much he adored it when Jun fiddled with his earlobes so many years ago. The number of times he'd almost fallen asleep in those arms of hers...

Snapping his attention back to reality, he reached up and tugged on the part of interest. He felt nothing.

Before he could comment, she interrupted. "I haven't activated them yet, don't worry..." 

He rolled his eyes and smiled, swinging his feet around so they hung off the side of the table. "Just so you know, they're a lot more durable than human nerves...and I've programmed these ones to be only slightly more sensitive than normal human...earlobe nerves."

_Great...even more sensitive than before?_ He snickered slightly. "So, what are you waiting for?"

"You to say that?" She grinned back at him, and tapped a few commands into a nearby computer. Less than a second later, the feeling of cold shot right through him...centring at his left earlobe. His eyes widened, and his hand automatically reached up to touch the affected part.

"Ah ah ah..." She scolded him playfully, grasping his wrist and placing it back down on the table. "Let's test this put properly."

When he didn't object, she smiled and reached for a little strip of metal. It was cooler than the air around them by several degrees. Of course, she placed this against his ear with no warning whatsoever.

He flinched and gritted his teeth, flicking his head away. "Shit, that's freezing!"

"That was the answer I was looking for..." Wow, she didn't even have to ask for a response! Perhaps she'd be so lucky with the next test. A warmer piece of metal – well, hot really – was placed against his earlobe. Similar response within less than a second...he almost reached up and swatted it away.

She grinned. "So far, so good...now for pain."

He grimaced. "Great...my favourite part..."

Before he could complain, he felt a sharp point digging into his flesh. It hurt! "Itai!" A moment later he slapped a hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut.

A little of the coolant within him had risen through the incision; it looked as if he was bleeding. It stopped as soon as she wiped the crimson liquid away though. The skin had the ability to heal itself. The pain stayed for a few moments, then faded to the sensation of her squeezing the hell out of his earlobe.

"Yes I can feel that too...yes it does hurt..." He let out a sigh of relief when she finally let go.

"Well, that confirms it – everything is functioning perfectly." With her words, he found himself reaching up to tug lightly on the newly sensitised part. His fingers were warm...nice and warm. 

"Let's just test one more quality..." She sat on the table next to him, leaning on his shoulder with one arm. The other reached around and grasped his earlobe gently between a finger and a thumb...she then proceeded to delicately massage the lobe with her thumb. The synthetic muscles in his shoulder beneath her relaxed noticeably, and he let out a soft sigh after a few seconds. "Pleasure?"

He nodded weakly and smiled ever so softly. "Definitely."

_So sweet! He has sensitive earlobes!_ She was thrilled that she'd found a weakness on the stoic creature. Instead of stopping like she had in previous tests, she continued to circle around the sensitised skin with the thumb, moving her free arm to rest over his back and shoulders.

He could feel himself drifting...drifting slowly on a little white cloud to god knows where. It was so blissful...after this last painful half year of nothingness, now there was that little bit of pleasurable relief...one of his weak spots was being relentlessly assaulted, just like it had years and years ago. This particular act was what weakened his will to resist Jun; essentially, her prolonged fiddling with his earlobes over an evening was what made him fall in love with her, since never before in his life had be felt so relaxed, warm, and safe. Again, here in the G-Corporation lab, he felt that same warmth and safety. Slowly, his head drifted down to rest on her shoulder without his conscious knowledge or consent. And she just kept on going.

Neither realised that they'd been sitting like that for a full twenty minutes...until Hanii's watch beeped rudely. When she looked down at her test subject, his eyes were barely open, and he looked as if he were about to fall asleep. Even when she stopped playing with the soft, warm flesh, he barely responded...until she shook him slightly. At that point, he blinked a few times and yawned, smiling shyly at her. "I think I almost fell asleep..."

"I think you did fall asleep for just a little bit of that..." He was still dazed, but he blushed as she smirked at him and got up. "Now tell me...would you like me to use up the remainder of the components I made up, or shall we save it for another day?"

He blinked sleepily. "Huh?"

_He's so _gorgeous_ when he's sleepy and groggy! _Hanii thought to herself, unable to resist grinning. "I asked if you wanted me to install the other few chunks of nerve fibres I have ready..."

He yawned, stretching his arms lazily over his head, and shrugged. "Sure..." He wasn't in much of a state to think clearly at the moment.

After a moment she pushed him back down onto the table...he offered no resistance. "I'll have to deactivate you for this one..." Again, he offered no resistance, and waited for the darkness to come.

It was a good half an hour before he was awoken again, still feeling a little over-relaxed from the little treat from before. Of course, he felt nothing different this time...he presumed it was something internal that she'd given him. As he sat up, still no new sensations...just that coolness on his ear. He looked over at her curiously, one brow raised.

Hanii smiled back at him as she put her equipment away. "I'll show you what I did at a later date...I'll need to catch you in the right mood." A slight blush came to his cheeks...he had this strange inkling he knew what she did this time.

As he slipped down off the bench and helped her put away a few tools, he pondered whether or not he should actually ask where she put those damn nerves. He couldn't feel them anywhere. Soon enough everything was packed up, and since night had fallen hours ago, it was almost time for sleep – since it was Monday tomorrow...time to get back to work once again.

"Well Kazuya...I think today's been long enough. How about we both head home and see each other tomorrow?"

"Agreed." They both headed to the door, but Kazuya paused before opening it. "Hanii..."

She stopped and looked up into his dark eyes. Completely unpredictably, he reached down and gave her a firm, friendly hug. "Domo arigatou...once again."


	7. The Odour Of Shirts

A/N: random quick update as a result of a spontaneous, random-ass idea. This may be one of many updates to come, or it may be the last for the next few days. My exams start on Thursday, and I have three days of 'em. All three hours...so uh, I'll either be studying or sitting here typing when I SHOULD be studying. Mah.

Once again, he'd spent the entire early hours of the morning tapping away at a computer station, staring blankly at the screen; getting work done. Though, at least for the last few hours, he was unable to concentrate properly. His sensitised earlobe was stinging with the cold. The only reason it was buzzing so much was the fact that the rest of his body was literally numb to the temperatures. It was quite uncomfortable, to be entirely truthful.

Still, he managed to stay on task and ignore the distraction. From the others in the lab he'd discovered how much it would cost to fund a complete upgraded nervous system...and choked as the figures came out. Even the Mishima Zaibatsu would think twice about spending that much...on one person! By now he'd accepted his fate as a very partially sensitised being.

He'd been convinced partially, however, that there may be a cheaper way to make use of the new technology. Better materials were always the answer for that – and more economical procedures. That's what he and almost all of the others were now researching.

As he helped prepare for a test simulation, he found his current position quite ironic; in the past, he'd always been the one in charge, controlling the situation. He'd backed away from doing it himself, especially in the realms of science. Then again, here he was, former CEO of the world's largest company, former richest man in the world...sitting in a high-tech lab, wearing the cliché white coat, tapping at a keyboard. He wasn't even high on the hierarchy! He was just one of the others in a team of scientific minds. To him, it was a complete and utter role reversal.

In the background, he could clearly hear the sounds of people tapping on keyboards, clicking mice, chattering, walking about...even breathing. His hearing was _that sensitive. Still, through all its accuracy and sensitivity, there was still room for human error – such as negligence and lack of attention to the detail offered. For example; he was actually _surprised_ when he learned the person approaching him, who he sensed subconsciously, was actually Hanii...who greeted him by tugging on his left earlobe gently from behind him. He almost jumped out of his skin, as a matter of fact...the people around him noticed him flinching visibly and looking up at the young Japanese woman with definite surprise and just a little conviction. Most took it as just a friendly hello, what with this new feature he now owned...very few, if any at all, would know her true feelings for the older man...feelings which were developing faster and faster...faster than she would have liked._

After grinning at him cheekily, she finally pulled away and sat down at her computer console next to his. Frowning, he returned to his computer screen, subconsciously tugging at the offended appendage. Her hands were incredibly cold this morning, but it appeared his weren't. Nevertheless, he didn't let the minor distraction keep him off task for long...he resumed work a moment later, after casting her another condemning glance – this one in slightly better nature.

The next two hours involved actually running the tests for bionic operators – what the team was currently researching. For now, it was a simple elbow joint. The tests involved perfecting the pathways involved within the mechanics, perfecting the 'precision' system – how much pressure to be applied when – and the nervous connections within a biological organism, and their compatibility. There was relative success within the two hour's trials, since the 'nervous system', so to speak, in operation wasn't that which was involved in sensory tissue; it was basic commands and movement controllers being used and tested.

The most difficult part was connecting the biological commands to the mechanical joint...it took many electrodes connected to many people, one after another, to perfect the technique and technology...but finally, after two hours of stress and concentration, success was the result.

After another few hours of work, lunch arrived. Whilst everyone else raced down to the cafeteria – which was the most used place in the entire building besides the many labs – Kazuya retreated to the roof garden, and sat beneath his favourite tree; a large oak in the middle of the roof. It was always so peaceful; these science types seemed to be almost allergic to good healthy sunlight, and only came up there if they absolutely had to. With that knowledge and opportunity, Kazuya had spent many a break up there, relaxing, unwinding, and thinking to himself. 

As usual the traffic below was horrendous, but the building was so far above the city that it was nothing but a distant hum. The sky was cloudless, and the haze had been swept away by a light wind. It was a world at peace – even birds, normally not found at altitudes over a hundred floors in the air, nested in the trees on the rooftop garden – chirping happily as they went about their daily business. 

It was almost ironic, in Kazuya's mind, how he'd made such a distinct change from old to new in this last year. Previously, though he inherently enjoyed the sunlight to a great extent, he'd avoided it in favour of the icy candour of the workplace, the computer screens, the office. He'd never been a fan of nature, even when Jun Kazama had forced him to become so; he respected it, but never _loved it as she had. Another renowned attribute of his was the ability to command and control with brutal efficiency in any situation. He would have been a brilliant leader in any profession; his happened to be battle and business likewise. _

Now, here he was, a mere face in the crowd of scientists and researchers, striving for a common goal. He could often be seen working with low-ranking equals, in the same garb, in the same room...he retreated to nature in his free time. Nature was what he lacked, he reasoned...and he felt the need to stay in touch with it, lest he lose his humanity to cold, sterile technology. After all, he'd only recently realised his own humanity, his 'soul'...he wasn't about to sacrifice it again. Something else he had found himself prone to doing lately was actually _agreeing_ with someone else's decisions. It was a strange feeling...almost like taking orders – though no one dared to give him such a thing. 

There was of course the issue of his changed appearance. In the past, he'd looked old; thus felt old. He could never look himself straight in the mirror and not feel ill. He'd hated himself with almost as much passion as he hated his father. Speaking of which...he ought to pay the old bastard a visit. Nowadays was a different story to his dark, self-hating past. Hanii had pointed out how many women (she dared not mention the _men_ that had done so as well) had stared him up and down since he'd had that appearance change...with that floating on the tip of his mind, he no longer minded looking at himself in the mirror. Though of course, he still didn't consider himself to be attractive – just not as hideous as he used to be.

The sun was shining down on the left side of his face...the other was in shadow from the oak tree above. As he lay there beneath the dense foliage, he felt that familiar burn against the flesh. It reminded him of a few months ago when he'd tried so valiantly to recall the sensation. Now, he was glad he did...it made the feeling so much more worth it now.

As he tucked his arms under his head, he heard the elevator arrive at the top story. He knew this time that it was Hanii, though he couldn't hear her breathing over the sound of outside as he might have within the confines of the laboratory. A few moments later, she stood above him, smiling down at him, petting a large thermos of coffee.

Kazuya smirked somewhat at her. "You know, you're giving me an interesting view..."

With a squeak and a blush, she sat down, brushing the short business skirt beneath her bottom, and placed her coffee down. "Well, I'm sure you don't mind..."

It was his turn to blush. "No, no not at all..."

Cheekily, she leaned over and grasped his sensitised earlobe between her finger and thumb, and gently stroked it as she sat beside his head. Immediately, he tensed...but relaxed a moment later, drifting into somewhat of an almost stupefied expression. It had always felt so good...why did she have to find the easiest way to torment him? In certain moods, it would have a completely different effect on him – but for now, it made him feel almost...warm and fuzzy inside...and most definitely very relaxed and comfortable. 

He gave a soft moan of content after a minute or so, then looked up at her dazedly. "Why do you have to be so efficient at finding my weak spots?"

The soft, deep voice snapped her out of her trance; she had previously been staring at his godly chest like there was no tomorrow. Though he was wearing a shirt – medium blue, long-sleeved – and dark slacks, his white lab coat open and sprawled beneath him, she could still imagine that beautiful body of his beneath it. Not that she'd admit it to him, not that he didn't know – but she'd seen, and felt him, naked. After all, she was on the team that put that new layer of skin on him. She would also avoid letting him on to the fact that she wanted to do it again...this time, with him very much awake and ready to enjoy it. 

In response to his question, she just smiled. "Your ears are a weak spot?" She feigned innocence perfectly.

He blinked, and looked up at the sky equally as innocently. "No..."

For the moment, she decided to leave him alone; there were more important things to attend to. Such as her coffee, which she took a swig off after opening the cap of her thermos. As she did, he sat up beside her, running his hands through his thick dark hair with a sigh. "You know...I really miss my morning coffee..."

Hanii slurped at some of her own once more before capping the dark liquid, and setting the cup aside. "Then why don't you go down to the cafeteria in the mornings and snag some?"

After giving her one of his well-known '_you idiot_' looks, he smirked. "Because I can't smell it, I can't taste it, I get no effect from the caffeine, and it does my body no good nor bad...it's a pointless exercise."

She rolled her eyes and sat back. Typical sarcastic, sardonic Kazuya Mishima classic remark. Yawning almost to the point of dislocating her jaw, Hanii found herself squeezing the upper half of her cup...and realised too late. The top popped off, splattering coffee about the place, and sending the little round black object flying. With a squeak, she put her cup down and reached after the flying cap. In doing so, she found herself lying over Kazuya's chest...he looked down at her, vaguely stunned.

As she grabbed the cap, she gave the centre of his chest a light nuzzle with the tip of her nose. Smirking, he prepared to push her off...but she paused, frowning in thought. He arched a brow. "What?"

"Are you wearing cologne?" She asked after a moment's hesitation.

"No, why?"

She leaned down and took a deeper sniff of the fabric of his shirt. She couldn't put her finger on it...she could definitely smell something; the faint hint of sweat, but more clearly a masculine scent. Whatever it was, it was making her feel rather intrigued...and excited. She could feel the reaction down below.

"I don't know...I can smell something on you."

He sat up after a second or so. "You must be imagining it...I'm not wearing anything. Either that or it's my shirt...but I don't see how..."

She cut him off after a moment, and climbed to her feet, dragging him up by the wrist in the process. "This is a really wild guess, but..."

***  
  
As Kazuya sat on the table once more, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening this time. As soon as they got down into the previously unoccupied G-Corporation laboratory, she'd been rushing around madly, taking test samples from him here and there, tapping furiously at her computer...and he had no idea what for. 

When she finally came to a conclusion, he was sitting cross-legged, staring at the opposite wall with half-lidded eyes. His chin was propped up heavily on his palm; his elbow rested against his knee. When she came bounding over, he glanced up at her with little enthusiasm.

"You won't believe what I've found..."

"Oh, won't I now?" His tone was laced with sarcasm, as usual.

Rolling her eyes, she sat up beside him. "You know that nanite technology we've got working in the tank with your original body, patching over the damage at a molecular level..."

He blinked. "Uh, no...But go on..."

She ignored him. "Anyway, we'd used modified nanites in your systems; the coolant system to be exact. They act as white blood cells might, as well as platelets...they're like mobile repair vehicles. They're tiny too – about three times the size of a human leukocyte."

"Alright...what about them?"

She looked over a printout, then back at him. "Well it seems they've taken on a few extra tasks. After all, along with many other upgrades, something else we added to you is a copy of your very own DNA, stored within the subconscious of your memory banks. It seems they've accessed it in passing, and have begun to use it for its true purpose; a blueprint of what you're supposed to be. They've begun to now reconstruct missing parts in their own ways."

Without knowing, he reached up to tug on his earlobe...and got quite a start when he did. After all, he still wasn't used to the sudden sensitivity of the little organ. "And what might they be?"

Hanii flipped over the printouts again, and sighed. "Not much as of yet...but it seems they've been using the few resources they have in your system to expand what we've installed in your ear. They've imitated the fibres that act as nerve fibres, and have created three more of their own so far...it doesn't seem like a lot, but don't forget...part of your body has just _reconstructed something that wasn't there. The other thing they've done is a little more complex. You see, with this skin upgrade, we'd also added a gland system throughout your body...the most widespread being sweat glands over all of your skin. The nanites have modified the ones around your chest so far, to emit the same scent as depicted on your DNA."_

After all this time working with science, he didn't need an explanation. "So basically I'll stink like I used to from now on."

She chuckled, and put the papers aside. "Actually, I think you smell very sexy..."

Kazuya rolled his eyes and leaned back. "Sure, whatever you say."

"No, I'm serious...you want to put your hands down my pants and see how excited I've become from smelling you?"

He almost choked with those words, and went bright red across the cheeks. "Okay okay, I'll take your word for it..." When she said nothing more, merely pressed her nose to his chest again, he couldn't help but wonder...this sudden ability to change, to grow...it most definitely wasn't part of his original design. And in every sense of the word, it was a form of immediate evolution within one organism. Interesting.

"You know, fundamentally, I've just acquired the ability to evolve..."

When she realised that, she smiled somewhat, and sat back up. Her head was spinning a little from the intoxicating masculine smell that still filled her nostrils...oh how sexy he was. It wasn't fair; he was so old he probably thought of her as nothing but an annoying child; Hell, she was around the same age as his son! He would probably never allow her to get as close to him as she wanted to. "I have a theory...if we allow the nanites to continue their progress, and give them supplies they need to do so, they may be able to generate an entire nervous system. That is, if we supply them with the proper markers throughout your system...like we did with your earlobe."

It sounded like an interesting theory; it could almost work. He shrugged. "Works for me. I'm happy to sit back and let those little things do as they please...as long as they don't do anything silly."

He slipped down off the table, and prepared to get back to work...even though it was the lunch hour. Before he could sit down, Hanii grabbed him again. "One more sniff..." She proceeded to bury her nose in his shirt, taking a deep breath through her nose. Her arms, for a while, were locked around his slender waist, her body pressed against his...she was, for a few seconds, in heaven.

Feeling his glare against her, she finally pulled away, smiled bashfully, and skittered out of the room to the bathroom to 'neaten up'. "I'll see you after lunch, Kazuya..."

After she was gone, she straightened out his shirt and sat back down to work. Though most of him wanted to forget that happened, and get on with business, a small part of him...that newly discovered 'soul'...wished he could have felt that sexy embrace.

Thankfully, he didn't have time to dwell over the situation, since people had begun to arrive early after the lunch hour, to resume work on their so far successful research. The noise was a welcome distraction, and Kazuya gladly embedded himself within it.


	8. A Smoulder

A/N: Sorry to hear about that ebil virus you got, Avatar-Infidel…perfectly good reason to not review. Hope it's all nice and cleared up now. As for everyone else, including you, Ava-chan…thanks for your loyalty and constant reviews ^___^;; Yesh I know I'm meant to be studying…shaddap.

By the way. This chapter is six friggin' thousand words, took me two days to write. It's also HEAVY stuff. Lots of angst. Enjoy.

***  
  
  


As per usual, Hanii found Kazuya in his favourite place; the roof garden. But today, it was quite a bizarre occurrence; since it was only just the break of dawn, on a Saturday. He was leaning over the bars of the outer wall, watching over the city was it hummed and throbbed below with pre-rush-hour traffic. 

Hands in her pockets, she wandered up to the taller being, and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was only after a prolonged silence, when she finally stepped up beside him to look down at where he was staring, that he responded; his hand rested on top of hers, squeezing gently. After a moment his dark eyes shifted to meet hers…but he looked back down at the streets below shortly after. There was no smile on his face, none of that happiness in his eyes she'd become so accustomed to.

Automatically, her hands wrapped around the much larger one he offered; she knew something was wrong. The soft sigh that broke the silence confirmed it a minute or two later. Again, she squeezed his hand.

"Kazuya-san…what's wrong?"

Funny…he was accustomed to 'Kazuya-chan' by now. He ignored the sudden polite reference, and merely replied. "Nothing."

She gave him a light shove. "I know you too well to believe that."

Again, there was a long silence. "I've just been thinking, is all."

Hanii curled her arms around his upper arm closest to her. Today, she could smell cologne on him…obviously he'd become a little self-conscious about the fact that he didn't smell of nothing any longer. "Do you want to share?"

Why would anyone care about his thoughts? Who wanted to know? Why should he tell her what he was thinking? No one had really given a shit in the past, after all. Then again, she was different – like Jun was. She was different from Jun too – young and energetic, lacking seriousness unless it was required. Jun had always been so serious, down to Earth, and desperate to get through to the good in his soul. His poor, poor Jun. Hanii, on the other hand, seemed to want nothing more than his friendship…friends share, right? 

He sighed softly, and kept his eyes locked on the pulsing, luminescing veins of the city below. "There was an article in the newspaper a few weeks ago, when we discovered what the nanites were doing in my body; the article was outlining a survey conducted on Japanese prisons nation-wide. Apparently Tokyo is host to not only the oldest inmate in the country…but the oldest man to _ever_ be convicted of a violent offence…"

She had a bad feeling she knew where this was leading. He continued. "Turns out it's Heihachi Mishima – my father." The word _father_ escaped his lips like venom, like vile acid…as if he was spitting it out like one might a foul taste. "Ever since I saw his disgusting name on that page I haven't been able to stop thinking about that wretched old bastard."

Hanii knew Kazuya's story well – not that he'd told her much, if anything at all, of his painful past. He wasn't one for sharing his personal life with anyone – even his friends. No doubt, though he wasn't showing it, the mere memory of his father was hurting him inside.

"I haven't slept in days because of him."

She hugged his arm against her chest, and rested her cheek against the hard muscle. "No wonder you've been so quiet the last few days you've actually _come_ to the lab…"

So very true; he was becoming inefficient because of this distraction. It was time to get it out of the way the only way he knew how; confrontation. This time, he was older, wiser, more mature – he could settle this in a much more grown-up fashion. Besides, he had an ace up his sleeve…merely being alive.

"Well, I think it's time I paid the old bag a visit…"

For some reason, that sent chills up her spine. She could sense him reverting to his old self, becoming the old, miserable, reclusive, antisocial Kazuya that dwelled on his pain and rejected comfort. At the very thought, she held him even tighter.

Raising a brow, he glanced down at her. "I won't be able to go anywhere if you are so intent on squeezing my arm off…"

Despite the dark mood hanging in the slowly brightening air, she chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm just…" She sighed. "I just don't want to see you become what you once were."

He extracted his arm and rested it over the other, leaning both over the top of the outer wall. "What was I before?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, and shifted her weight to the other foot. "Depressed and lonely."

After another silent moment, she felt an arm gently loop around her waist, and draw her close. Resting against his chest, she felt once again like she'd died and gone to heaven. She heard and felt him sigh, then kiss the top of her head, bringing up the other arm to hold her in a friendly hug. "Don't worry about me, Hanii. I just need to get this out of my mind or it'll eat at me forever. I can't let him think that he's finally defeated me…I can't allow him to die happy. Not after everything he's done to me…"

She knew somehow that this was one thing she could never change about him. He'd been hurt too badly. She could learn from history; where Jun Kazama failed, she would succeed. She knew human nature better than Jun after all; who knew nature better than anything else. Kazuya was perfectly fine and all…until he was confronted with his father in any way. She was quite happy to let him do whatever he felt was necessary to save his sanity – besides, Heihachi was an asshole, and deserved punishment in any way. Nodding in acknowledgement eventually, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly. "Do what you must then; just be careful."

***  
  
The long session of sitting in the lab trying to explain to Carter, yet not explaining much at all, was the most difficult thing he'd done in a while; though it was nothing compared to the task ahead of him.

Finally, however, the old man relented, and agreed to let him do as he wished for the day. "Have Takani help you with whatever you need, she's not busy at the moment…"

***  
  
It wasn't long before the lab was vacated for the three of them – Kazuya, Hanii and Takani, an older, wider woman. Kazuya was amazed the corporation hadn't done anything to help her fit into at least an extra-large lab coat…but hey, that was her business. At any rate, she was good at what she did, and for that, he didn't complain. 

Since he was going to appear as if he had never died at all, and hadn't any connections with the G-Corporation, they decided to dress him up to look exactly the same as the day he died. They had kept the old facial layer he'd woken up with in this godforsaken automaton body; and since it fitted the part perfectly, they were preparing to temporarily replace what he was currently in with the older visage. 

He sat on the table he was so used to being operated on, and with a yawn, rested back on it, letting the two women get to work. With commands from a computer connected to him, his body was paralysed; without movement to hinder their efforts, they removed most of the panels of skin from his face (which always joined and rejoined seamlessly, and would only be removed with special equipment) and replaced them with the matching pieces of the older synthesised skin. The procedure, though delicate and just a little time consuming, was swiftly done, and Kazuya found himself able to move again within minutes. 

As he sat back up and hopped off the table, he ran his hands through his hair, then over his face. He could tell it was slightly different…the flesh moved differently beneath his fingers. There were indentations on his cheeks – scars – and his hairline was set further back. Beneath the widow's peak that now sat strongly on his forehead, his brows were more heavy-set and slightly thinner. Yes, he looked fifty-eight once again, rather than twenty-five. Depressing, yet for the purpose ahead, effective.

After thanking the both of them, he retreated to his room – which was now more of an apartment. There was a bathroom connected, of course, but the room beside it, originally another living space, had been converted into a small recreational area of some sort; a television and a sofa resided there, along with what might be roughly defined as a tiny kitchen. He wandered inside, and headed straight for the wardrobe. Of course, he had to hide most of his body, since it was no longer scarred and blemished. And of course, in his traditional style, he had to dress up.

He searched amongst the rack of shirts and trousers – mostly casual shirts, t-shirts, jeans, and casual slacks…then he found what he was looking for; a dark blue business shirt, with a matching deep violet tie. With it, a thick dark purple jacket – with a white collar – and trousers in the same colour. Pulling the clothes out of the wardrobe one by one, he tossed them on the bed and began to drag his current clothing off. 

Though it was simply a matter of old habit, Kazuya decided to take a shower before moving on. He stripped himself of the remaining clothing he was wearing, and wandered into the bathroom. By now it was almost mid morning, and he hadn't showered beforehand – so there was a good enough excuse to do so. 

He noticed, as the harsh shower-jets pummelled his muscular body with water, that Hanii's prediction had been right – the nanites were working on the nerves in his ear, and were spreading the effect; he could feel the streams of water against the top of his ear now, not just the lobe. It was almost enough to make him smile – almost. 

Five minutes later, he hopped out and dried himself off with the large but scratchy white towel hanging beside the shower. Typical G-Corporation spared no funds on luxury; not that he objected. It was comforting to know that there were others with his mind-frame; business before leisure. 

In passing, he glanced at the mirror; and regretted it. He shuddered…damn, he was so ugly. He was unable to look back at the mirror for the time being, and concentrated on getting ready for his second expedition outside of G-Corporation walls. Slipping back into the room momentarily, he grabbed his business suit and began to get dressed. Leaving the tie and pants aside for the moment, he went back into the bathroom to continue getting ready; for the first time in a while, he gelled his hair back into that trademark spike. After a few other small details, he drifted back out into the room, killing the light for the bathroom, and buttoning up the shirt. 

Soon enough he was completely ready, down to the shoes and coat, which he had already buttoned up. For the time being, he even donned a pair of dark, reflective shades…all the better to go unrecognised with. 

Outside, he managed to find the car Hanii had given him keys for. Nothing fancy…just an unlabelled G-Corporation hatchback. It would get him to the prison. There was no hesitation involved as he got into the car, and headed out into the outside world. Thank god he knew Tokyo as well as the back of his hand, still, after all of these years…because it was bedlam as soon as he hit the street.

Fighting the traffic was something he was used to, and it never ruffled his feathers. After all, why get pissed off at people who are trying to do just as you are – get somewhere – and waste valuable energy and time in your frustration? He was a patient man. It was that patience that would serve him well, he realised, as he finally reached Tokyo's high-security prison in the industrial outskirts of the city.

He parked the car and headed inside – cheeky bastards made a roaring trade with parking prices – to check in at the main entrance. He put in a request to 'visit' Heihachi Mishima, one of the notorious inmates, and security personnel were assigned to escort him after a few moments of messing about with the request. Following the armed and uniformed policemen, he headed in the direction of his father.

***  
  
Over the last year and a half, he'd been completely ignored in this godforsaken place, so why this request all of a sudden for his presence? It was a humiliating enough end for a great man such as he, but ultimately...he ended the wretched life that was Kazuya Mishima.

No matter. When security guards released him from the cell to take him to the meeting room, he complied...he was curious to see who it was that had called in. It can't have been Kazama; that boy wanted nothing to do with him since he took over the Zaibatsu. The stupid boy probably thought it would be against his parent's wishes to take action for his obnoxious father's demise. 

On the way, the eighty-six-year-old noticed his back aching slightly from sitting too long. Finally, his life of action and physical expenditure was catching up with him. His arms and legs were often stiff in the mornings, and his back argued heatedly with him for forcing himself out of bed in the cold to proceed to breakfast. With his deteriorating physical condition came deteriorating vision and hearing...which were becoming a nuisance. Still, he was feared amongst other inmates for his reputation alone...that, and he still had his muscle tone, even if the skin over the top had lost elasticity and sagged over the years.

The room he was led into was reasonably unpopulated – there was a two-to-one ratio of criminals in orange overalls to blue-uniformed policemen...all armed with batons or similar short-range weapons. Along one wall of the long, thin room was a row of seats at desks. Each desk had a window facing out of the room, and a telephone unit hooked to the wall. Outside, there were obviously rows of chairs. Heihachi squinted; no one of interest was standing out there, and only the chairs occupied had the window shutters drawn up. The others were all covered from the outside.

He was ushered into one of the seats, and the two security guards with him stood back, out of earshot, against the back wall behind him. After a moment of thought, the aging man picked up the receiver of the archaic-looking phone, and pressed it to his ear. There was no one there.

After a moment or so, he heard the phone pick up on the other end. The shutter of the window, however, didn't open.

"Who is this?" He growled low, quietly, not sure what to expect.

There was no reply for quite some time. Then, "Are you sure you want to know that?" That deep, strong voice...so disgustingly familiar. The sarcasm in the man's tone was repulsively familiar too...but could it be? He snarled. 

"Open the window, bakayarou..."

There was a soft snicker from the other end. "My my, you have gotten grumpy and cranky in your old age..."

Heihachi's heart fluttered painfully in his chest, and the colour began to drain from his extremities. It couldn't possibly be that wretched man...he'd ensured he'd been killed, never to return. There was no way a body as mutilated as his could return from the grave!

Then again, that's what he had thought last time – with the volcano incident.

"Baka...who are you?"

A click, and the shutter began to move. After a second of fiddling, the entire shutter flew upward, revealing the man on the other end of the phone line. Heihachi's heart might as well have stopped in his chest right there and then!

Sitting on the other side of the window, only a matter of a metre or so away, was the man he thought he'd destroyed once and for all. There he was, looking as if all that energy had been wasted on nothing – he looked the same as he did _before_ Heihachi had committed the crime that had him sent here! And to add salt to the stinging wound...he was _smirking_ as if he deserved praise for somehow rising from his own ashes!

"I think you know who I am..."

Thank god there was a thick pane of glass between them...because if not for that, Heihachi would have a lot more difficulty resisting wrapping his hands around Kazuya's neck. His hand on the receiver almost crushed the old device into useless ruins. 

He did, fortunately, regain his control. He hissed angrily as he spoke again, the words being spat out like venom. "How are you still here, brute..."

Kazuya sat back in his seat, still holding the receiver against his right ear. "Let's just say that while your efforts to get rid of me were admirable in effort, they were insufficient in effectiveness..."

Typical Kazuya. He always had to get the last word in, didn't he? Heihachi snarled. "There is no way in Hell's name you could have survived what I did to you!"

The younger man's eyebrows rose substantially on his forehead. "Oh, you want to confess it to the world now, do you?" Smirking at the vile look he received for that, he continued. "Of course, we should get back to business. I didn't just come here to announce my presence, you know..."

Business, with this abomination? Great, what did he want this time? "And what business would I have with you?"

Honestly, Kazuya couldn't see why he'd bothered now that he was here. It was a waste of his time...this would get nowhere. Then again, this may be the last time he'd ever get to try and figure things out with the old bastard...after all, there weren't too many years left on the old timer's clock. 

"Not a lot actually." He sat forward again slightly, pulling the chair closer to the table. "For once I can see beyond my own blind hatred, and I've realised that I have no need to further punish you...the nation's law system is doing it for me. After all, I'm here – denying all the efforts you made to eliminate me." The look on the old man's face was beautiful...so full of rage he could explode, but unable to release it. "And I've been thinking about our...interesting relationship...over this last month or so."

He should have suspected this would end up talking about how he 'wronged his son' so many years ago. He felt so revolted, that the temptation to simply get up and walk away was almost too much. "Let me guess, you want to think of petty revenge in some other way, ne?"

Somehow, Kazuya managed to maintain control over his face...it didn't display the anger he felt. "No, actually, so far I've left that up to you." He didn't elaborate further, since he knew exactly what aggravated his father – and that'd not what he was here to do. "You know...after all these years...we don't even know each other. All we've ever done is condemn each other and try to kill each other."

For a moment, Heihachi considered his words...but, purely on the basis of who they came from, he laughed them off. "And what's so outstanding about that? What's your point?"

Surely it was obvious. But no, it seemed he would have to elaborate for the old man. "Isn't there supposed to be more to it than that?"

The older man sighed, and leaned back in the rather uncomfortable chair. "I don't know, is there?" What more was there to say to that horrible creature? That tarnish in his perfect bloodline...he should have stayed down the bottom of that cliff when he was five.

The insolence and lack of cooperation was beginning to gnaw on Kazuya's nerves...but he, once again, tolerated it. After all, there was another reason for the irrational behaviour now – Heihachi was getting old, senility may have kicked in by now. "We're meant to be father and son. There's meant to be a hell of a lot more, and you know it!"

The terse tone in Kazuya's voice, for once, made Heihachi feel just a little inadequate. He was being scolded by a younger, lesser being...and that pathetic life-form was right. There _was supposed to be more. _

"I never understood why you condemned me for merely breathing the same air as you. Shall I continue wondering for the rest of my life, or are you willing to put the old demons to rest?"

What sort of a decision was that? There was nothing left for him now. He'd thought, when he was younger, that he would die in happiness – no Kazuya to get in his way, an heir for his fortune waiting silently for the Zaibatsu, and the Zaibatsu, his Zaibatsu, being the largest, most powerful in the world. He had hoped he would die in glory. But no, now there was his son, still alive, and standing on the wrong side of the bars – it was the little bastard's fault he was in here in the first place!

"I owe you nothing."

Kazuya was beginning to lose his patience...he shouldn't have bothered coming here. It was so pointless. "You know you owe me an explanation, if nothing else."

"An explanation of what?"

For a moment, Kazuya was lost for words. He was so close to ending this beating around the bush it wasn't funny. "An explanation of why you hate me so much! I'm your son, damnit, I'm not supposed to be hated and condemned for crimes I didn't commit...by my own father! How about an explanation for why you threw me off that cliff, huh? That would work well too...you at least owe me that!"

That word...that word..._father...he never thought it would be that which would make him see the light. He'd tried to make sure he __never saw the light. But here he was, finally realising...he was a father. A _father_. He was a father, and a terrible one at that. He was the abomination – one that ends its own immortality through the murder of its offspring. He was unnatural. _

And to make matters worse, he had no answer. Those were the most difficult questions he'd ever been asked – why does he hate his son? He didn't know. He'd long forgotten the reason, only held the grudge way past its expiry date and let it grow, manifest, and take over. He no longer knew why he hated Kazuya. He couldn't figure it out, he didn't know...and now, he didn't _want_ to know. He just wanted his miserable life to end. It had been too long; he didn't want to die of old age. It was a shameful, glory-less way of passing into the unknown.

It was staring into those dreadful dark eyes that snapped him back into reality. It was those eyes that fuelled that hatred he held so strongly over the years. Kazuya's eyes had always been so dark, so cold, so emotionless. They'd always seemed to represent truth, and to make it worse, they were his mother's eyes...without the love, without the emotion, the passion. Now, staring into the grown and aging man's eyes once more, he began to realise what the true extent of his hatred had been driven by – Kazuya was everything he wanted, yet at the same time, the antithesis of everything he wanted.

The silence hung between the two for what seemed like forever. The younger of the two Mishimas simply waited patiently for a response, while Heihachi sought after one. None wanted to come...there was this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach; a feeling he had always resented, and had always pushed to the back of his consciousness. He knew it was guilt.

"I don't know how to explain it." The look of anger and condemnation in his son's eyes made the anger burn again, and the bile rise in his throat. "Damnit, Kazuya..." The younger man pushed the seat back and leaned into it, still frowning, awaiting an explanation.

"I'm not leaving until you at least tell me _why_."

That cool, that calm...in so many ways, he saw his own image staring at him through that window. What made it so much more painful was that if he looked hard enough, he could see his long-passed wife in the younger man's eyes. He looked so much like her...he only inherited his eyebrows from Heihachi's side of the family. The rest of him was the spitting image of his mother. For that, he hated him even more...a constant reminder. A constant reminder that, though the child's birth had made the poor woman terribly ill, it was ultimately Heihachi's fault that she fell pregnant. It was not Kazuya's fault, it was his own. The mistaken blame, then the realisation of the truth...it had fuelled the hatred more than ever since it had happened.

"I don't know exactly why...I don't know where to start." Something inside him somehow finally awoke, and had begun forcing him to try and resolve matters with the last remaining embers of his own self. He sat forward, pushing the chair back, and rested his elbows on the table in front of him. He knew he'd regret it soon; his back wouldn't want to straighten again soon enough. Wretched old age. "There are so many reasons. I've forgotten most of them...all I remember is that I hated you, I still do, and I always will..."

At first one would think this was going nowhere once again, but Kazuya knew better; the old man would go to great lengths to insult him – he always did – but he was finally on to something. Kazuya simply sat back and listened patiently...even if it was like getting blood out of a stone.

"Your birth made your mother incredibly sick...you remember how she was bed-ridden for much of the time during your youth."

"What youth I actually _had..." Kazuya interrupted. He did, however, fall silent immediately after, letting the elder continue._

Heihachi ignored him. It was about time he got this out into the open. "I resented you because you were the cause of her ailment. The hatred never faded...I was too willing for it to manifest within me." By now, the old man's voice had lowered, and he found he could no longer look into the younger man's eyes. Instead, he stared at the chipped wooden table below his elbows. "As you grew, I expected a lot of you...I wanted you to be perfect, but at the same time, I wanted you to be a failure...so I could feel satisfaction in you being a waste of my time. But it turned out you wanted perfection...I tried to beat it out of you, to make you lose hope, but you always fought back, you always survived. The more you defied failure, the more my hatred grew for you..."

Kazuya didn't know how to take this particular information. It was an even deeper, more sickening, darker reason for the resentment than he'd ever anticipated. It was so deeply rooted in the old man, and in himself too, that he saw now that it would never be resolved. It could never be resolved. 

"I adopted Lee to try and make a fresh start...but how stupid I was. I thought it would work...I didn't realise that I couldn't simply dispose of one son and take on another...I should have learned that from earlier experience." He laughed darkly at his own words, shaking his old, balding head. "So there you go. From there, you know the story of how it escalated...I'll admit you've received the slightly more painful end of our little feud..."

For moments afterward, there was nothing but silence, as the both of them thought about what had happened. Kazuya shifted uncomfortably. "...Amazing. And I thought there was a simple reason behind it all." Another long pause ensued. "Funny how I actually wanted you to be proud of me before you threw me down that godforsaken cliff..."

Heihachi switched the receiver to the other side of his head. "Fate has a strange way of making people's lives Hell."

Kazuya gave a soft snort of laughter. "I'd say you learned from Fate."

If it weren't for the glass, Kazuya knew he'd get a hefty slap across the face for that. Sure enough, Heihachi was bursting at the seams to do just that on the other side of the barrier.

He quickly changed the subject, however. He still had the will to preserve what little was left of his once regal dignity. "So, Kazuya...now it's my turn to ask questions."

The younger of the two arched a brow, and sat back, waiting for what would be asked.

"You never did give me a straight answer as to why you are alive..."

He sighed somewhat, and thought about actually answering that. He still didn't want to give the old bastard the pleasure of knowing he truly was killed. Thus, he decided to bend the truth. "Luck has always been on my side. Remember last time you tried and killed me? Let's just say that lightning _can_ strike in the same place twice. There's nothing stopping it from doing so."

Before he could respond, he felt a hand grab his shoulder just a little too roughly for comfort. Damned old age. "Time's up, Mishima. Back to the cell with you."

The old man offered no resistance; that is, after giving his only son a long, hard stare – that was, after all, the most effective method of communication between the two. His glare was returned with equal passion – or lack thereof.

***  
  
It was now nearing sundown. He'd been standing on the edge of the cliff since after midday, after he left the prison. He could've sworn he'd seen his father standing off in the distance, his hair still black and standing in two tall peaks above his balding head...but, of course, it was a figment of his overactive imagination.

The memories of his own screams echoed in his ears, as he watched himself fall down the rock face over and over again...reliving the pain, the torment, the rejection. Reminding himself of the very moment he was forsaken by his very own father...it seemed like it was about to happen, it was so fresh on his mind...it hadn't even happened yet, and he was predicting it in every grisly detail.

He stared down between his knees...since he was sitting with his legs hanging over the edge of the cliff, he could see all the way down to the bottom; it was a ridiculously long drop. How a child could have survived that, he didn't know. No, yes he did...with great pain; more physical pain that anyone should be able to endure – and with the aid of a spirit, an apparition with seemingly no purpose and hidden agenda. He could remember that fall...so well, that merely looking down the rock face made his head spin...he could see it rushing up toward him at lightning speed. He could feel himself hitting the rocks on the way down, feel them tearing his flesh from his body, hearing the sickening ripping sounds of flesh and fabric alike being left behind. 

Before he let himself remember the impact itself, he pushed it from his mind. He felt thoroughly nauseous. Feeling the vertigo from looking down so far finally, he moved back from the cliff-side, and stood up. He'd been sitting there most of the day...it was time to go home. 

***  
  
When he finally reached the G-Corporation, it was dark. He made his way inside, feeling somewhat better after fighting the rush hour traffic. It made him feel human again, after all – traffic was always a beautiful reality check. 

He didn't find Hanii in the lab, which mildly surprised him. Takani was there though, and he had her put him back to the way he was supposed to be again. In no time, she had removed the older-looking synthetic flesh, and replaced it with the youthful face everyone had grown to recognise around the building. 

Quickly thanking her (and agreeing to give her a hug...the payment she demanded light-heartedly), he went in search of Hanii. Apparently, she'd been cooped up in the computer lab on level 65 for the last few hours...strange. A few others on his way confirmed it...the last anyone saw of her, she was there. 

And indeed she was when he finally found her. Staring at a computer screen, no less. 

He sat down on the free chair next to her, noting at the same time that there was no one else in the room. After looking at her for a moment, he realised she was staring down, unblinkingly at her hands. She also had a slightly red complexion, which was out of the ordinary.

He placed a hand on her upper arm...as soon as he did, she exploded with uncontrollable tears, her forehead sinking down onto the keyboard. Of course, Kazuya had no idea how to react to this at all. He decided eventually, after a moment's startled pause, that it would most undoubtedly be best to comfort his distraught friend. Pulling the chair close, he wrapped one arm around her back, the other grasped one of her hands...her grip tightened around his fingers considerably.

For a minute or so, she just cried. She did finally turn and lean her forehead against his shoulder. As she did, he held her appropriately; a hand on the back of her neck, the other around her waist. He simply waited for her to calm down before he spoke...it was best to let her calm herself down than force her, after all.

She did finally regain her composure, which is when Kazuya asked her; "Hanii...what's the matter?"

A soft sob escaped her throat, and she drew him closer, wiping her eyes on his dark shirt. "My...my uncle..."

He could guess what that meant. He glanced at the computer screen, quickly reading what it had to say...it turned out it was an email from her father – saying that his brother had passed away in a tragic car accident. It seemed, from the tone of the message, that it might have been one of Hanii's favourite relatives that had died.

With a soft sigh, he pulled her onto his lap, hugging her against his solid chest, letting her cry as she wished. He didn't believe in hushing someone when they needed to release their anguish. "I'm so sorry, Hanii..." What else could he say?

It was a while before she finally came to grips with herself, but when she did, she smiled at him, wiping her reddened eyes on the back of her hand. "You're the best friend I've ever had, you know..." Sniffling, she rested her other hand on his cheek. "I'll be alright. He was ill anyway...I doubt he would have lasted too much longer. He had cancer."

Kazuya didn't know what to say...what do you say? Thankfully, she spared him the pain and hugged him again. "I'm so glad I have you Kazuya. You're like a big brother sometimes, as well as a friend..."

He smiled softly, and held her again. "If there's anything I can do to help you, just tell me, alright? You've done so much for me; the least I can do is anything you ask of me."

She sniffled, then hugged him around the neck. "Just be there for me, okay? That's all I want...a friend."


	9. Green Thumb

A/N: Wow, it's been a long time since I posted here, hasn't it? I've been so stuck into my website and my art that I'd almost forgot about my fanfiction! Well, uh. Let's rectify that...here's a nice big meaty slab of 4000-word chapter for ya! No cliffy ending, but beware of soppiness.

***

It had been a while since Kazuya had paid his father a visit. The idea of his old man doing time still amused him to no end, of course, even though it had been a month or so since he'd been reminded of the old bastard. This particular morning, he'd found himself lying back in his bed, not at all enthusiastic about getting up...it was Sunday, and there was nothing to do. Why not laze around for the morning, and sleep in for once?

He did just that; made himself quite comfortable curled up under the blankets, day-dreaming. For a while, he simply lay there...but after a short time he found himself fiddling with his earlobe. As he did, he couldn't help but notice he could now feel his hair being tugged on; the nervous system had grown further up into his scalp now, and upon further exploration, he realised he could almost feel all the way down to his jaw line. Of course, he couldn't pull his hand away, and kept fiddling with his ear. It made him feel almost human again...and day by day the feeling slowly grew.

After a while he decided he'd been lazing around for long enough, and rolled out of bed. It was nearly nine in the morning by now, which was a pretty hefty sleep-in for him. After grabbing some clothes from the chair near his bed, he sauntered into the bathroom to freshen up. Since he'd discovered he was no longer so artificial that he didn't smell of anything, showering was no longer a luxury, it was a necessity. 

After washing up, he found himself automatically looking for something around the basin. He couldn't recall what...but he knew something was missing. A short glance in the mirror, and he snorted at his own morning air-headedness. The habit of shaving in the morning, after so many years, was still ingrained within his mind. He still did that at least once a week...reached for a razor, only to realise there wasn't one there...then proceeded to wonder where the heck he put it. Synthetic skin didn't grow hair...he had no need for a razor.

Putting that little issue aside, he continued to get dressed; a casual short-sleeved shirt, and dark slacks. The mirror watched him endlessly as he did so...he found himself staring at his reflection after a moment or so. Honestly, he couldn't see what women saw in him...the few that did manage to see something. In his mind, even though he was young-looking once again, he didn't see himself as anything that could be described as vaguely attractive. He didn't have a charming personality either, so he believed, so that was another factor against him.

Maybe that was why he was still single, after all these years. Still, he didn't care...he was happy alone, wasn't he?

Dressed and refreshed, Kazuya left his room and made his way down to the cafeteria. As usual he wouldn't be eating, but there'd be plenty of people to talk to down there. The workaholics all came in on Sundays around nine to ten in the morning and had their breakfast there. 

As he made his way down in the lift, he found himself wondering exactly _when he was..._

...after all, it was only decade or two ago he was last standing in this lift, heading downstairs to engage in an activity he'd never truly mastered...socialising...

It was a strange feeling, Déjà vu. He could have sworn he'd done this before. As he cast his mind back, he realised he had...about fifteen years ago, when G-Corporation had helped him almost fully regain himself – everything but his memory. He'd found himself, though his proverbial slate had been wiped clean, uneasy when it came to making friends, but he seemed to make plenty of them anyway. He'd learned to smile and laugh like everyone else, to enjoy himself, to be one with the crowd...

It was almost a pity he finally remembered who he was. The old Kazuya that returned to his renewed body lost a lot of those friends with the regained coldness and seclusion, he remembered. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't maintain that man he'd become within the G-Corporation...the nameless warrior with a second chance at life...

Then again, he'd been made bitter and cold by his father's treatment of him. The old bitterness was what really took over more than anything. 

As he wandered into the cafeteria, he noticed there were fewer people inside than he'd predicted. He spotted Hanii in the far corner, and headed in her direction. She was, after all, his best friend. She was one of the few. He'd come to realise that with the passing of his father's reign, he was a calmer, more relaxed and easy-going guy altogether...after all, him having any friends at all was remarkable in relation to his painful past. 

Perhaps he was regaining part of that other man he once was. What was his name...?

Hanii didn't seem to notice as he sat down in front of her...her nose was buried in a magazine. Silently, he kicked one knee over the other and leaned back, watching her as she avidly read through the page she was on. It seemed that over the last month, she'd recovered quite well from the loss of her uncle. 

After a while she let out an enthusiastic giggle and slapped her hands over her lips, bounced about, and kept reading. 

One brow arched higher than the other, Kazuya decided to ask the question that begged so; "What are you reading?"

She almost literally jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice, and slammed both hands down on the double-page spread, her face quickly taking on a distinct rosy hue. "Nothing, nothing!"

Of course, when he pulled it out from beneath her, as much as she resisted, he had no trouble in doing so. She wasn't quite strong enough to stop him, after all. Instead, she just giggled in embarrassment and hid her face in her hands. The page before him was hot pink and white in colour, with random paragraphs in blue. The title had a symbol in the same blue beside it...a circle with an arrow pointing upward above it. 

The title itself almost made him drop the magazine and fall over backwards.

"What the hell...'Twenty ways to estimate a guy's size...'" He didn't continue, just read down the page a little way to see if it was actually about that topic, his brows furrowing somewhat more as he did so. 

For a moment, Hanii stared at his hands as he held the magazine, as if following through on some of the material within...then she realised what she was doing, and squeaked. She reached forward and snatched the magazine, then stuffed it hastily into her bag, still blushing profusely. "You saw nothing!"

"Uh...I saw a little more than nothing..." He smirked cheekily. "So, who's your boyfriend?"

At that, she stared at him slack-jawed for a few moments. What boyfriend?! If anything, she wanted _him to be hers...but she knew that was never going to happen. "What?! I don't have a boyfriend! I..."_

"Then why were you looking at something like that...wait, I don't wanna know..."

She slapped her hands against her cheeks, shaking her head. This had to be the one most embarrassing thing she'd ever been caught doing... "I just was...oh, nothing, I was just...curious, I guess..."

Her seeming embarrassment made him wonder exactly _who_ she was thinking about at the time...she wouldn't be so embarrassed if she was just glancing over the page itself for the fun of it. "Well it can't be me you're wondering about...you've seen me naked enough times to know..."

Well, it seemed he'd hit the subject bang on the mark...if it were possible, she seemed to go redder, and squeaked softly, burying her face in her hands again. "Yes, I...NO! Kazuya, just..." She playfully lashed out at him with a hand, then slammed her forehead against the tabletop. 

When he realised that it was him that more or less was on her thoughts, his cheeks pinked substantially as well. Half-laughing, he muttered down at the near-convulsing bundle of hysteric woman on the table before him. "Well, you could have just looked at the design blueprints for this automaton body of mine if you really wanted to know, couldn't you?"

Of course, she was laughing too hard to respond. Chuckling, he put a hand against her shoulder. "I'm going to go and get some work done...how about you lie here in the hysterics for a while longer in the meantime, ne?"

Not waiting for a coherent response, he got up and headed toward the laboratory, smiling softly as he left the cafeteria. That had to be the first encounter of that sort he'd had. One thing he wasn't used to was sexual attention...

***  
  


Being a lazy Sunday afternoon, no one really did much work so to speak. After settling in just after nine, Kazuya and Hanii managed to work, along with the others, for a good solid five hours, before heading off for a late lunch, and for most, home. Most people migrated to the cafeteria as usual, but Kazuya himself was content with heading to his favourite spot...the calm and serenity of the Roof Garden. 

He had about half an hour to himself, lying on the grass under a tree, soaking up the sunlight, before the faint _ding_ of the lift arriving on the top floor interrupted his thoughts. A few moments later, Hanii sat down beside him, coffee in one hand, handbag in the other. It seemed she wasn't going to continue work that day, and had just stopped by to drink her coffee in the relative peace of the garden.

A soft smile graced his face as he watched her gulp down the hot brew...she returned it a moment later, and continued to drink. A glint of pink caught his eye...the magazine was still in her handbag. With a cheeky smirk, he reached over and pulled it out silently, and began flicking through. Teasing her about this, after all, would prove to be fun. Of course, she noticed after a moment, and almost spurted coffee out her nose.

"Kazuya! What are you reading that for?!"

"Well you were _so preoccupied with it before...and I always wanted to know if girly mags truly wrote nothing but bullshit..."_

She sighed and smiled, watching his face as he read, holding the magazine above with both hands. After a while, he snickered softly. "Well, either it's all bullshit or I learned something new today..."

"I'm inclined to think that you learned something new..." Grinning and blushing slightly, she grabbed it back again, and shoved it into her handbag. "So...what _did you learn?"_

He shrugged. "Well...I never knew 'size' could be roughly guessed by hand and foot size...personally I think it's rubbish."

Out of curiosity, she grabbed his nearest hand. "Let's see..." She'd always marvelled at them; something she found sexy was men with nice hands. His were nice indeed; they were large, but slender...long, thin fingers with reasonably flat palms. His nails were neat and tidy since they didn't grow, and thankfully, he had never had the genes for hairy fingers. 

"Well, your hands are quite long...I'm guessing you're a big boy..."

Shyly, he snatched his hand away and wrapped his arms around his stomach. He felt a little...exposed. "That's not science, that's a wild guess!"

Hanii couldn't help but giggle softly at his reaction, and placed her coffee down next to her bag. A moment later, she yawned and leaned down, resting her head against his chest. Needless to say, at first, he had no idea to react at this sudden intrusion of his personal space, but after a few seconds, he decided it wasn't so bad. She wasn't causing any harm, and it had been a long, long time since he'd been physically intimate with another human – to any degree. With a yawn, he folded his arms behind his head, and relaxed once again beneath the rays of the afternoon sun.

For some time, neither said a thing. Kazuya's mind had since wandered, thinking about a variety of things; his painful past, the work ahead, G-Corporation's research and bad management, the bizarre moment at hand...Hanii, on the other hand, was completely intoxicated by the aforementioned moment. She was, after all, doing what she'd always wanted to...rest her head upon the chest of a physically fit male – fighter, athlete, warrior, body-builder, training fanatic...she didn't care. The soft scent of cologne, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the warmth that radiated from the solid muscle...it was all enough to make her feel as if she'd died and gone to heaven. 

The sun above was surprisingly warm, since both were wearing dark clothes, but neither seemed to mind. Kazuya, after all, couldn't mind if he tried; he couldn't feel it. Hanii was purposefully ignoring the slight burn on her legs and bottom, since ruining this precious moment was the last thing she wanted to do. He, she decided, didn't mind or care either way about the intense feelings she was receiving simply by lying on his chest. In fact, he probably didn't notice. 

"Amazing how we still manage to get birds in the trees so far up here in the sky..." The deep rumble startled her as the vibrations shot through her cheek, into her hear...she couldn't help but smile. Nope, he hadn't noticed at all.

"I guess they like it up here..." From the slightly dozy sound of her voice, one would guess she was falling slowly asleep. She was, as a matter of fact, and for a moment, she completely forgot herself. One of her hands ran across his chest, taking in the smooth, hard muscle below, until she found a certain small item further across. Despite herself, she pinched it softly...only to nearly panic when she realised what she was doing. However, to her surprise, she received absolutely no reaction for her inadvertent troubles. 

"Guess they do." His reply was a bit delayed; it seemed he was deep in thought. And he hadn't seemed to notice her pinching, either.

How annoying; for a moment, she's forgotten he wasn't human any more. 

Since she wasn't going to get smacked away for it, she continued, slowly and carefully tweaking the small lump through his shirt. _If only he could feel it_, she thought to herself as her body tingled. _And if only I had the courage to take this as far as I could make it go..._

For a while, again, there was silence. Hanii entertained herself blissfully and secretly with the marvels of his warrior's chest, and Kazuya allowed his mind to continue to drift. 

This was almost perfect, in his opinion. Lying in the sun, not a care in the world, with his best friend – his _first_ friend – enjoying the time passing by alongside him. There was no need for talk, just the company; the sound of someone else breathing, the knowledge of their presence, their will to stay. For him, it was something he had grown used to, but would never stop appreciating. With a past like his, he would never take it for granted. 

After a seeming eternity, he glanced down to see what Hanii was doing, only to be met with the sight of her toying with his chest. How cheeky! 

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Her eyes turned to saucer plates, and gawked at him, unable to hide their guilt. With her face reddening, she scrambled back up, clasping both hands together in front of her chest. "I...I..." How could she explain that one?!

His arm rested across his chest as he sat up, watching her reaction with little more to say for the time being. The situation left him completely baffled; why would anyone want to do such a thing to him? He wasn't attractive, after all, and he was old enough to be her father. Maybe she was just teasing him, or was just bored; she couldn't have feeling for him, could she? They were just friends.

The silence was clearly killing her, and she sighed softly. "Well maybe it's time I told you Kazuya...I think of you as more than a friend...or at least, I'd like to..." She gulped quickly, and drew a shaky breath. To be honest, she'd never been so scared in her life – being rejected by such a man, after all, would be completely gutting to the soul. And to be even more honest, she had no clue as to what his response would be, because she had no clue as to what he thought of her, that is, between the realms of friend and lover. Where did she stand, in his opinion? She continued, before she lost her nerve.

"You've been fantastic the entire time I've known you...you've taken this whole issue so well, and you've never lashed out at anyone about it – except Carter..." She couldn't help but smile as she said it, because she knew the nature of their mutual apathy toward each other. "That, and you've been the best friend I've ever had."

He drew a breath, waiting for her to say something further. His mind was whirling with the sudden and rather unexpected turn of events, unable to think of something to say himself. Was this just a strange dream? Maybe the last half year had been one long, confusing dream. 

"...and I feel like a real idiot right now, so it'd be great if you said something." She stopped, and chewed on her lower lip. Yes indeed, she did feel like a real idiot...and somewhat of a little schoolgirl.

That was a tall ask, especially at the moment. It's moments like these that leave him completely and utterly speechless. He drew a breath, then sighed, shrugging his shoulders dramatically. "I honestly don't know what to say..."

She glanced away, thinking. Maybe he was really just rather shy deep down inside, despite how confident he always seemed. He was a rather deceiving person at the best of times; one could never assume with this man. Then again, maybe he was trying to find a way to gently break it to her that he wasn't interested in someone _half his age._

However, he knew he had to say something, because something told him that if he didn't, he would very quickly break the girl's heart. Did he _love_ her? Yes. He did; as a friend. But what about _love love? As of yet, it was a tricky decision. He had to admit, she was beautiful. A young, energetic Japanese woman, with short, heavily layered hair, dyed a golden copper, and a very nice figure; most of the men around desired her. For that very reason, Kazuya had excluded himself from the possibilities list. That, and his age was a definite barrier. _

"Well...how do you feel about me?"

The killer question. "Let's see...you're my best friend...the first friend I ever had, to tell the truth. I've never thought of you in _that_ way, mostly because I never even considered the idea that you'd feel the same. I've never thought anyone would, to be painfully honest." He sat up further, drawing his knees to his chest, and put his arms around his knees. He felt thoroughly uncomfortable. "I just don't know what to make of the situation at hand...I never expected you to think of me as more than a friend..."

Inside, Hanii felt herself dying of shame. Why had she let it slip? She should have kept the dirty little secret to herself! The more time passed in the still air of the garden, the more she came to realise she'd just ruined the most fantastic friendship she'd ever had. There was no way things could go back to what they were.

"I'm...I'm sorry Kazuya, I shouldn't have said it. Let's just...forget everything I said, and go back to what we had before..." She almost choked on her words as she tried to deny her feelings; she had to hold back the tears.

"No, Hanii..." How could she say such things? He couldn't live with himself if he forced her to throw away anything she believed in. Slowly, he was realising that he felt almost too strongly about her for her to be considered _just a friend. "If you feel a certain way, you shouldn't have to repress it just to make someone else happy."_

The look in her eyes made his heart skip; the emotion was unreadable, but explicit. "You think so? But what about you?"

He shrugged again, and smiled softly. "I could get used to it."

Hanii had no idea what to say to that. Instead she just smiled, blushed, and glanced down at the grass below her. What was there to say?

After a moment, Kazuya dropped his legs back down onto the grass. "Do you want a hug?" She sure looked like she needed one. He was never one to offer physical contact – in fact, that was the record first – but he'd taken a wild guess that the gesture might be appreciated.

She looked up at him, rather surprised. "You sure? Can I?" 

Holding his arms out for her, he smiled and nodded. Of course, she didn't need to be told twice, and crawled over to sit in his lap. Her arms looped around his neck tightly as she willed herself not to cry with joy...but it didn't last long. As soon as she felt his strong arms around her, the tears came, silently streaming down her face. Willing herself not to make a sound, she just held onto him, enjoying every millisecond of the delicious, blissful contact. 

What seemed to be ages, stereotypically, had ended up being only a minute or so before Hanii pulled away from his powerful shoulder, and stared into his dark eyes. She could tell he was completely baffled by the entire situation, but for her, it was a dream finally being realised. Before she knew what she was doing, she leaned up and pressed her lips against his, almost moaning in delight at their soft warmth. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away...in fact, he allowed her to do as she pleased, so it would seem. Cautiously, she slipped her tongue inside, toying with his as she explored within. Again, he offered no resistance, but didn't respond to a great degree. He couldn't feel it, after all. 

She knew what he _could feel, however. One hand drifted up toward the left side of his head, and, gently, she grasped his earlobe between her index finger and thumb. As she kissed him, her finger and thumb petted the lobe, and slowly traced up the side of his ear, over it, behind it, and went back to toying with the lobe. At first, he moaned softly into her mouth – enough to make her quiver in delight – then simply relaxed in her arms, drifting off into the bliss of pure and simple delight of physical contact and sensation. _

After a moment Hanii leaned forward and pushed him gently but firmly, and toppled down after him as he fell back onto the grass. Well, she had to hand it to him; he certainly was easy to relax. Instead of leaning down to attack his mouth again, she rested her head on his chest, and continued to play with his ear, through the base of his hairline, and down to his jaw. She had a good idea that was as far as the nanites had gotten so far with their construction. He seemed to approve; eventually, his eyes drifted closed. From what she could tell, he was asleep.

Smiling, she curled up against his chest a little more, basking in both sunlight and the sheer bliss she felt in finally letting _him_ know her dirty little secret – and surviving the aftermath.


End file.
